


Chasing Cars

by ratherbehere



Series: Chasing Cars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Community: deancasbigbang, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2013, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Build, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbehere/pseuds/ratherbehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an awkward accidental encounter at a local strip club, Castiel discovers his college roommate, Dean, has a secret career as a stripper, and their relationship begins to change and a bond begins to form. They face the joys and challenges of life together and discover along the way how deeply they've come to care for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Year

**Author's Note:**

> The gorgeous art for this fic, done by the wonderful [Casamancy](http://casamancy.livejournal.com), can be found [here](http://casamancy.livejournal.com/1791.html).
> 
> The “soundtrack,” music that is featured in this fic, can be found on [youtube](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNd3gDxsrYa-SNyArCk70GF21Lgc7jJiH) (recommended, these are the versions I “heard” while I wrote) and [8track](http://8tracks.com/ratherbehere/chasing-cars-soundtrack). [Da1ia](http://da1ia.tumblr.com) also put together an [8track](http://8tracks.com/da1ia/chasing-cars) playlist with some different selections on the various pieces. 
> 
> Other minor couples in the fic: Sam/Jess, Chuck/Becky, Victor/Jo, and of course, John/Mary
> 
> There is a small nod to one of my Christmas exchange fics. Extra cookies to you if you spot it. 
> 
> Please see the end for all of my thank you notes.

**Friday – September 18 th 2009**

Dean would never forget the day everything changed between him and the roommate he’d known for all of three weeks.

Castiel had stepped out of the bathroom they share with the dorm next door in one hell of a sharp outfit. Dean had raked his eyes over him quickly, impressed and surprised. He was wearing a new pair of jeans and a deep blue button down shirt, both of which fit him very well, showing off the nice curve of his ass, the slim but sturdy build of his frame. If he was out to pick up someone for his birthday, he wouldn’t have any problems.

Not that he knew where Castiel stood on that. As far as he’d seen, Castiel had yet to go out on a date, or even express the interest.

“So where’s your bro taking you tonight, birthday boy?” Dean asked from his position, sunk into the bean bag chair.

Castiel ran a hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the creases in agitation. “He wouldn’t tell me,” Castiel said with a hint of irritability. “He has a habit of picking the most interesting places though.”

“That’s a good thing though, right?” Dean said to Castiel’s hesitancy.

“You don’t know Gabe,” Castiel said with a sigh. “Do you still have plans?”

He sounded so hopeful that Dean hated to give him the news. “Yeah, still busy. Sorry man.”

Dean wished he didn’t have plans though. With the exception of a few scuffles of will (For example, Dean had wanted the top bunk, but Castiel won it with paper over his rock.) they had gotten along great in their first weeks together. They were both freshmen, both adjusting to living on their own and the whole college experience, and everything was still so new that they hadn’t gotten any further in a friendship yet. But Dean was hoping they would. He didn’t have a lot of friends, especially at Kansas State, and it didn’t look like Castiel did either.

Castiel’s cell phone went off with a short ring. He looked down at it and read for a moment before looking up. “Gabriel is double parked and his ‘charms’ aren’t working on the ‘rent-a-cop’ and I need to get my ‘cute little ass’ down there.”

Dean raised an amused eyebrow at all the quotey fingers, trying not to chuckle or find his roommate adorable as Castiel grumpily grabbed his trench coat from off the back of his desk chair.

Castiel shot him one more pleading look as he left, Dean shaking his head with sympathy and amusement. He called out a “Have fun!” as the door clicked shut.

He was beginning to understand Castiel’s reservations about the evening.

~

Gabriel was rich and influential and an unapologetic flirt, which meant he almost always got his way, regardless of the rules or the law. So Castiel entered the strip club without a single issue, and didn’t even question where the tequila shot came from, despite being 2 years away from legally being able to drink. He just downed the drink and hoped it would make the rest of the evening more enjoyable.

It also meant that when Gabriel pulled them into table and chairs in the front row, he knew better than to protest. Gabriel wanted him to have fun, and he didn’t object strongly enough to fight him on it. His brother had never understood that Castiel wasn’t particularly interested in mindless carnal pleasures, that seeing naked flesh wasn’t really one of his interests. But he also didn’t have any issue with it, so he simply knocked back the second shot glass, and settled in to watch.

The club was an open-interest club, which meant that men and women took turns on the stage, and sometimes even shared it. The first dancer was a group of girls, and Castiel wasn’t particularly intrigued by any of them. Though Castiel didn’t feel much by way of sexual attraction, at least based on looks alone, he had enough to know he tended to prefer men.

The girls left the stage and the lights dimmed. Through the darkness, Castiel could make out a man taking the stage, and he appeared to be wearing a cowboy hat. He was immediately more intrigued than he had been with the girls, and nothing had even happened yet. Then the lights came up with a sudden jolt of music and Cas nearly fell out of his chair.

The man under the cowboy hat was his roommate.

Gabriel whistled next to him. “Man that is a fine specimen of the human species up there,” he shouted to Castiel over the pulse of the music.

Castiel was too stunned to reply. His roommate works as a stripper, and he didn’t even know about it. Though, this did explain his tendency to sway his hips whenever he’s idle, and it definitely explained him coming home awfully late, especially on the weekends. Castiel had assumed Dean was out with friends or on dates. Dean has done nothing to dissuade those conclusions. He obviously hadn’t intended for Castiel to know about this, at least not yet. This could get very awkward.

If it wasn’t already.

But then again, Dean hadn’t seen Castiel. He could just pretend this hadn’t happened, that he wasn’t currently watching his roommate rip his chaps off his fit legs and shimmy his ass around for the audience with a big cheesy grin, and they could just go on as normal. Of course, that might be hard to do if he continues to watch his roommate’s pelvis thrust at him, nearly naked now. With a small swallow, he sharply averted his eyes.

Castiel was absolutely certain that plan would have worked just fine too. If only Gabriel hadn’t misread his physical responses to Dean on stage.

Shortly after Dean’s performance, Gabriel had disappeared. And a half hour after that, Castiel discovered why. He had booked a lap dance for the “birthday boy” with “the boy toy.” Castiel could do nothing but watch in horror as Dean made his way to their table. Dean hadn’t seen him yet, looking around the room as he strode over. So it wasn’t until he was saying, “Lap dance at table 4?” that he finally looked down and met Castiel’s eye.

Dean’s eyes widened instantly, growing panic evident. Gabriel took no notice of course and chimed in, “Yep, that’s the birthday boy right there. Make sure he has a good time will you?” He reached over and slid a $50 into Dean’s draw string. Dean gulped hard.

“I don’t think-“

“How dare you,” Castiel snapped at Gabriel. It was defensive anger, though Gabriel mistook the source. “You should have asked me. I don’t want a lap dance,” Castiel said, biting out the words. His eyes flittered to Dean, who was watching their exchange without breathing.

“You want one with him though,” Gabriel said with a leer. “For once in your life bro, don’t be a prude. Just enjoy it.”

Castiel’s pulse quickened and his lips thinned as true anger over took him. He hated when Gabriel called him a prude, deliberately misunderstanding Castiel’s sexuality just to piss him off. He had teased Castiel endlessly for being a prude all through high school simply because he was never terribly interested in dating. He’d dated one guy, and he had just started to develop feelings and physical interest in him when he moved to New York. Gabriel then teased him, saying he must have been so awful in bed that he made the guy move away.

Gabriel could be a bit of a dick.

“Fine,” Castiel spat out, realizing the best way out of the situation was through it. He turned to Dean, tried to soften his expression, and mouthed, “Go with it.”

Dean hesitated another second, meeting Castiel’s eyes, evaluating what he saw there. Castiel knew he could refuse a lap dance to any customer, it was the rules of the club, but he slowly began to gyrate with the music, rocking his hips right in front of Castiel’s face. Castiel tried to not stare at his roommates crotch, and kept his eyes level on Dean’s stomach instead. His nice, flat, toned stomach. His heart was pounding in his chest at the awkwardness as it was, and sky rocketed when Dean crawled into his lap. He was so close, Castiel could smell the sweat and practically feel the body glitter falling on him. He hadn’t even realized Dean was shimmering until then.

Castiel leaned back, his eyes glancing up just in time to meet Dean’s own. They flittered away nervously. His shimmying, thrusting and shaking were all as sinful and graceful as one would expect, but he was obviously trying to keep himself as removed as possible from the situation. Only Castiel would notice the blush on Dean’s cheeks. He thought, suddenly, that it was endearing.

Dean was very good at this though. His movements were mesmerizing, and pulled Castiel in. He found his eyes dropping and a faint shimmer of arousal went through him. He gasped, snapping his gaze away as fast as possible. Of all the inappropriate things to do with your brand new roommate. Was Dean going to think he was a pervert?

The music changed and Dean stilled.

“Happy birthday, man,” Dean mumbled as he crawled off, fleeing without another word.

“That was odd,” Gabriel said next to him, breaking the stupor Castiel had found himself in.

Castiel snorted. “You have no idea.”

~

It was 4:00 in the morning before Castiel came back to their room. Dean had not been waiting up for him on purpose, but rather, simply couldn’t sleep. His stomach churned with worry that he had already ruined things with his roommate and potential friend. He knew there was no reason to assume Castiel was bothered by this revelation, but it would be equally stupid to assume he was okay with having a roommate who sold his looks to the eyes of men and women alike. As the clock had ticked on later and later into the morning, even by his club schedule standards, he had begun to think Castiel wasn’t going to come back. He resigned himself to having fucked up one more thing in his life.

When Castiel did finally bang his way through the door, the relief flooded his system. However, as Castiel walked jerkily in the room, completely drunk, the relief turned to concern. Cas stopped in the middle of the room and swayed dangerously, eyes glassy and unfocused, his trench coat even more rumpled than normal. He hiccupped and somehow he made the action look adorable.

“My god Cas,” Dean said, standing up. “How much did you have to drink?”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t-“ Castiel broke off to hiccup again, “-know. Lost track-“ Another hiccup. “-around the fourteenth shot of tequila.”

Dean’s eyes rounded in shock. “That’s a lot of alcohol Cas. Why’d you drink so much tequila?”

Castiel took a small step forward, beckoning Dean closer with his right hand. Dean moved forward cautiously, but Castiel kept beckoning. When he was far too far into Castiel’s personal space, he put his lips to Dean’s ears and said, in a perfectly normal voice instead of a whisper, “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Dean jerked back with shock, but before he could say anything, Cas continued, “And please stop-“ –hiccup- “-saying the word ‘tequila.’”

Then he promptly bent over and threw up on Dean’s feet, sliding slowly to the ground, smearing the putrid substance on himself.

Dean stared at his puke covered toes for a moment before looking to Cas and sighing heavily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up then,” Dean said, apparently to himself.

It was difficult getting Cas in the bathroom, being mostly dead weight as he was in and out of consciousness, but once he was sitting on the toilet, Dean took a breath and set to work. He cleaned off Castiel’s face first with a cool wash cloth, and then worked him out of his shirt, glad Cas was wearing a button down so he didn’t have to pull it over his head. The dirty garments were thrown to the floor with a squelch. Castiel’s shoes came off with a sharp pull. Lastly, Dean rinsed out the cool wash cloth and wiped the floor. It would need a better cleaning later, but for the moment, it would at least keep the smell down.

Dean was pretty happy with the cleanup job. He even got Castiel to drink a glass of water, promising him he’d thank him in the morning.

It would be impossible to get Castiel in his bunk, so he figured they were switching for the night. He got Cas back to his bed, helped him undo his belt and push his jeans to the ground so that Castiel was in nothing but boxers. He had a passing thought about grabbing him a t-shirt to sleep in, but then Cas flunked against the bed frame and he figured the guy needed to be in bed more than he needed a shirt. He helped Cas lay down, and he immediately curled onto his side, facing out to the room.

He was nearly done tucking Cas in, just reaching across to the blankets piled up against the wall, when a surprisingly strong hand wrapped around his arm.

“Don’t go,” came the slurred voice.

“Cas?” Dean asked. When he got no response, he tried to pull away again, but Cas held tight and jerked Dean’s arm a little, so that he almost fell on the limp, but surprisingly strong, human beneath him. “Okay, alright. Just let me get the light.” Castiel sighed and let go of Dean’s arm, accepting the terms.

Dean turned off the light and was about to crawl up to the top bunk despite the drunk man’s wishes when Castiel once again reached for him. He only grazed his leg, but it was enough for Dean to know he was serious. He climbed over Castiel, who was still at the edge of the bed and not moving, and muttered, “This is really freaking awkward.” Castiel shook his head sluggishly, denying it. “Trust me,” Dean said, pulling the blankets over the both of them, “You’ll feel the awkward in the morning.”

“Won’t,” Castiel mumbled. Two seconds later he was snoring.

~

Castiel awoke slowly. The room was fuzzy, his brain was fuzzy, his teeth felt fuzzy. He groaned, grabbing his pounding head. Pieces of the night before came back to him, but nothing to explain why he was in Dean’s bed. He glanced to his side. There was certainly nothing to explain why he was in Dean’s bed with Dean.

As Dean snored on, Castiel climbed out of bed. There was certainly nothing to explain why he was in Dean’s bed, with Dean, without pants. He was a pajama bottoms kind of guy.

He padded his way to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, took some aspirin. He fetched some bottoms and a t-shirt and sat down at the desk chair, angling it so he was looking at Dean. He was just about to lean over and wake the man when Dean’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at Cas and blinked a few times, running a hand down his face and rubbing at his eyes.

“Dude, it’s creepy to watch people sleep,” he said, his voice heavy with sleep, but Castiel didn’t detect any real annoyance.

“I wasn’t watching you sleep,” Castiel said, slightly irritated at the accusation. “I was about to wake you.”

Dean hesitated at that, and then seemed to wake up instantly. He scooted until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, and clasped his hands in his lap, looking at them. He was dejected, Castiel realized with a start.

“About last night,” Dean said, swallowing. “I understand completely if you want to ask for a new roommate.”

“Is there a reason I should?” Castiel asked, surprised.

Dean looked up, shocked. Castiel thought he was endearing with his tufts of hair going every which way. He liked it much better than the fake and perfected Dean of the night before. “Um. How much do you remember?” Dean asked.

“Other than Gabriel shoving shots down my throat?” Castiel asked with a snort. “I was going to ask you actually. Did we uh. You know,” He said with a gesture between them, hoping Dean would catch his meaning. He didn’t. “I woke up in bed with you without any pants on.”

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Dean’s features. “Noooo,” Dean answered, waving his hands. “Nothing like that. You’re just a clingy drunk.”

Castiel nodded at that, accepting it easily, and breathing out a deep sigh of relief. “Good. I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you, Dean.”

Dean huffed and looked sideways, to the window. “So you’re not upset about what happened earlier? At the club?”

Castiel frowned, having to think back through a haze of alcohol. “Oh my god, you gave me a lap dance.” Dean blushed profusely as confirmation. Castiel ran his hands through his hair as the silence hung. “Damn Gabriel. I was prepared to pretend I’d never seen you. I don’t really care Dean, but it was obvious you didn’t want me to know. Then he just had to go and order that lap dance.”

“So you’re good with all this?” Dean asked, seemingly unconvinced.

Castiel nodded. “As long as you are. I’m not, uh, gay, for the record. But I can be into guys.”

Dean didn’t answer right away and Castiel was worried he’d said too much. Dean looked at Castiel for a long time before he finally said, “I can be into guys, too.” He looked down, began to pull at a thread in his pajamas. “I’ve never told anyone that.”

Castiel gave Dean a moment to reflect. He seemed to need it. Eventually, he told Dean, “Bisexual then?” Castiel asked. Dean nodded. “The closest label one could give me is demi-sexual.”

Dean blinked several times. “You like gods?”

Castiel laughed, a lot of the tension in the room evaporating with it. “No, no, it means I’m only sexually attracted to people I have feelings for.”

Dean nodded, to Castiel’s great relief. Most people did not accept his sexuality so easily, denied its existence. So when Dean correctly summed it up with, “So you get a hard-on for love?” he smiled and shook his head with amused relief.

“I suppose you could put it that way, yeah.”

“Okay,” Dean said, nodding. “Okay then. So we’re good?”

“We’re good,” Castiel agreed. “My head’s killing me but we’re good.”

Dean slapped his thighs and stood up. “C’mon, I know exactly what you need to eat at the food court to cure that hangover. Sausage, carrots, maple syrup...”

As Castiel watched Dean fish around for a pair of jeans to throw on, he had the strangest feeling that life would never be the same again with Dean Winchester around.

**Saturday – November 14 th 2009**

Despite having his roommate and growing friend writhe nearly nakedly in his lap, their relationship continued without a trace of awkwardness. If anything, they were closer now that Castiel knew Dean’s secret. It was as if their talk had broken down a barrier between them. They had every meal together whenever their schedules didn’t conflict, and Dean had taken a liking to sending him dirty jokes when he was in class. Castiel suspected his dead-pan replies were amusing to Dean too.

_Hey Cas, what kind of bees produce milk? Boobees._

_I know. I poured some boobee milk in your coffee this morning._

_… touché._

They were also becoming good friends with the guys across the hall, Victor and Chuck. The beginning of their freshman year at college had flown by, so they were both surprised when Victor had invited them, along with his girlfriend Jo and her roommate Becky, to the last football game of the year. They hadn’t been to a game yet, so they agreed readily, despite knowing it would be cold enough to freeze appendages off.

It was easy to see, as they settled in to stamping their feet to keep warm, why Victor and Jo were dating. They were both tough and strong willed, and Cas had no doubts Jo could kick Victor’s ass in a heartbeat if she needed to. Chuck was a strange, squeaky, little man who seemed out of place amongst the football crowd, but Castiel liked him. He also liked Becky, who was a little too hyper for his tastes, but seemed sweet enough. Castiel generally liked most people though, no matter their idiosyncrasies.

When they got to their seats, Castiel made an effort to make sure Chuck and Becky were sitting together. He had hoped they would complement each other. He had not expected them to start making out at half time, but sometimes happy accidents happen.

“Cas,” Dean said, leaning in to speak close to his ear, “did you plan that?”

“No,” Castiel replied instantly. He blew on his hands and rubbed them together. “Maybe a little?” he confessed. “I thought they’d get along, I didn’t expect them to hoover each other.”

“Nice job,” Victor whispered, leaning in. “Now I’m going to have to do cute roommate double dates or some shit like that.”

Dean snorted and clapped him on the back. “Don’t let Jo hear you say that, she’ll have your balls.”

Victor blanched and quickly straightened. He leaned into Jo and whispered some sweet-nothing in her ear and she giggled. Cas caught Dean’s eye and they chuckled at their friend’s expense.

Castiel turned his attention back to the field where the marching band was setting up for their half time show. The first half of the game had been a letdown. The Wildcats were down three touchdowns, and it didn’t look like that would change any time soon. After the band’s performance of songs from the movie Chicago at half time, he was getting bored waiting for the inevitable disappointment to resume. He rubbed his hands together a few more times. He was so bored, his blood pressure was slowing down and he was getting even colder.

Castiel didn’t even notice that Dean’s conversation with Victor had died down until his hands were suddenly wrapped around his own.

“Here,” Dean mumbled warmly. When he pulled away, he left a hand-warmer pack in Castiel’s hands.

“Where did you-?”

“I bought some when I hit the john. Fucking expensive little buggers, but you looked cold.”

Castiel looked down at the hand-warmers blankly before looking at Dean and saying flatly, “We’re all cold, Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “If Becky or Victor’s hands start looking as blue as yours, then I’ll buy them one too.” His attention was pulled to the field as they set up for kickoff for the second half. “Damn near as blue as your eyes,” he mumbled to himself.

Castiel smiled and shook his head. It was such a small gesture, but it warmed his heart more than it did his hands. Dean was a thoughtful man and a very good friend. Castiel thought he’d never had one like him before. In fact, he may never find a man like Dean Winchester ever again.

He looked up from the hand-warmer just in time to see KSU score a touchdown.

The audience went wild with cheers, but Castiel simply turned to Dean and demanded, “What the fuck did I just miss?”

Dean smiled at Castiel’s rare use of a curse word and quickly explained that it was an interception, that they had run the ball back damn near 75 yards for the touchdown.

The tide of the game turned after that play, and Castiel’s blood was no longer struggling to pump itself along to a lackluster game. Everyone was invigorated, riding the high. Even Chuck and Becky had pulled apart to cheer their team on. Cas screamed along, cussing up a storm when they missed an easy pass, or cheering and fist pumping with the rest of them when they pulled off a really good play.

After an interception that left a string of cuss words flying out of his mouth so bad that a sailor would not only blush, but start writing them down, Dean leaned in to say, “I had no idea you had such a mouth on you, Cas.”

A slow, devious smile spread over Castiel’s cheeks. He winked. “I guess you still have a lot to learn about me and my mouth.”

Years later, Castiel would forget that the score ended at 28-21. But he would still remember the look at Dean’s face at that moment. His jaw had hit the floor while Castiel just leaned back and laughed.

**Wednesday – December 2 nd 2009**

“Heading to the club?” Castiel asked, looking up from his History 101 textbook.

Dean looked up from where he was lacing his shoes. “Yeah,” he grumbled.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Wednesday’s suck. Girl’s night. Draws the extra perverted, extra broke crowd.”

Castiel frowned. He opened his mouth to say something when their bedroom door banged open loudly. Jo bounced in and face planted across their bean bag chair.

“Victor is driving me crazy,” she mumbled into the fake velvet fabric. “You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he is the biggest Christmas junkie. He won’t fucking stop singing Jingle Bells, and I swear to God, I’m not responsible for any bodily damage I may have to cause him.”

“Um,” Dean said, tying the last knot on his shoes. “Hi Jo, please come in. We’re all decent in here.”

Jo waved her middle finger in the air in his general direction, not bothering to raise her face from where it had planted. “You guys have Christmas sorted out yet?”

Dean had it on the tip of his tongue to say, “Of course, going home, mom’ll make a ham, Sam will play carols at the piano while we sing sweetly for mom and then make them nasty when she goes to bed...,” but Castiel’s eyes had shifted to the side, and he knew him well enough to know that meant there was something he wasn’t saying. “Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel’s shoulders slumped and he looked down to the ground, before looking back up to Dean. “Gabe called yesterday. He’s stuck in Switzerland. I’m staying here.”

Dean knew his mouth was hanging open, but for some reason, it seemed to like that position. Jo sat up and looked at Cas with what could only be called pity. “No other family then?”

“Jo,” Dean said softly, about to tell her to back off, as nicely as possible, but Cas interrupted.

“It’s okay Dean,” Castiel said, holding up a hand. “No Jo, Gabe is all I have now. I’ll be fine. We never really celebrated the holiday anyway, not without Mom.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel cut him off again. “I said it’s fine, Dean. Aren’t you going to be late?”

Dean checked the time on his phone and grumbled out a curse word. He was going to be late if he didn’t leave right this second, and the club’s punishment for tardiness was getting restroom cleanup duty. “This isn’t over Cas,” he said, pointing at him as he slid out the door.

The evening was as rough as expected. Lots of cheap horny drunks breaking the rules and feeling him up. Security dealt with it as best they could, but tossing all handsy patrons out would cost them the business. So Dean dealt with the occasional pinch to his ass, or a hand on his thigh. He smiled just as sweetly at the girl (or boy) and winked, trying to at least earn a few extra dollars from having his respect violated repeatedly. It was Wednesday, they were all broke.

Time drudged by as he waited for an opportunity to step out in the alleyway, hoping it wouldn’t be too late to call home and ask his mom a favor. Fortunately, he got his break just before his parents would be heading to bed. Quickly grabbing a big fluffy coat to protect his nearly naked state from the cold, Dean stepped into the alleyway and pulled up his parent’s number on his phone. As he knew she would, she agreed in a heartbeat. Now he only had to hope Castiel wasn’t too stubborn to accept.

He arrived back to their room at 3:00 a.m., but Castiel was still up and studying. He stood up when Dean came in and handed him an already made mug of hot chocolate, not saying a word about the glitter in Dean’s hair or the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume wafting from him. Dean wanted nothing more than to collapse into a chair and savor the warm beverage, but it needed to wait.

“I called my mom,” Dean said. Cas looked up from where he was sitting back down at his desk and arched an eyebrow. “She wants you to come home with me for Christmas break.”

Castiel gasped. He stood straight back up. “You should not have done that.”

“Cas, look,” Dean said, setting his mug of hot chocolate down so he could shrug out of his coat. “I know you’re stubborn and I know you hate being a burden, but you’re not being a burden. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Castiel’s eyes shifted to the side and he bit his lip. “I don’t-“

“Look, mom said she’d clunk you over the head herself and shove you in the car if you were going to be stubborn about it, so you might as well come willingly,” Dean said with a grin, aiming for humor, hoping it would win Cas over. He wasn’t lying though, she really did say she’d kidnap him if she had to. She understood what stubborn boys could be like.

Castiel huffed and crossed his arms defensively. “Well I suppose when you put it that way…”

“Dude, you won’t regret it,” Dean said, picking up the mug Castiel had made for him. “Mom makes the best Christmas cookies. And just wait till you try her honey ham. Oh, and the pie. Her cherry pie is to die for.” Dean moaned pornographically around his mug of hot chocolate. It really was the best damn pie.

“I’m going to come back fat, aren’t I?”

“If you don’t, we failed you,” Dean told him solemnly. “Besides, we can pick up running together or something if you want. I should probably keep my body in shape if I want to keep my job. Might get better tips if I could tone up a bit.”

Dean had no idea when things had gotten to that point with Castiel, where he could just assume that if they could, they would do it -whatever it was- together. Castiel had only been in his life for a few months, but sometimes it felt like he’d been a part of Dean’s life for a lot longer. The best part about it was that Castiel didn’t even question it. Instead, he warned Dean that he was a pretty good runner and he wasn’t going to slow down for his fat ass if he couldn’t keep up.

They bantered for the rest of the night, even after they crawled into bed, and didn’t fall asleep until the sun was coming up and Castiel’s alarm went off 20 minutes later for his 8:00 a.m. class.

**Friday – December 11 th 2009**

Castiel stood by the circular drop off zone for their dorm, fidgeting inside his winter coat and trying to hide his nervousness from Dean. He had a moment to himself to breathe deep and try to calm his nerves while Dean fiddled with his phone. He really, really wanted Dean’s family to like him. They were doing him an incredible, selfless favor by letting him into their home for a few weeks, and it was important to him that they not regret it. That they not chide Dean for bringing his weird roommate home. He knew he was being silly, that he had no reason to worry they wouldn’t like him, or that it even mattered that much if they did, but anxiety defied logic.

“Hey,” Dean said suddenly, placing a calming palm over his wringing hands. “There’s no need for that. My mom is incapable of not loving everyone she meets and Sam will just be glad to have someone as smart as he is in the house.”

“You’re smart too, Dean,” Castiel said with a frown. “What about your father?”

“Cas, trust me, it is impossible for any human on earth to meet you and not like you.”

Castiel snorted. “Tell that to my high school class.”

Dean was opening his mouth to reply when a black, vintage Impala pulled up in front of them. Dean let his palm drop from Castiel’s twitching hands and went to grab his suitcase. The trunk popped up and a tall, dark haired man with some serious scruff stepped out of the car.

“Hey Dad,” Dean said, hefting his suitcase into the trunk.

“Dean,” John said by way of greeting, his voice a little weary. “This Castiel?” He asked, looking Cas up and down.

“Yes Sir, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said, sticking out his hand. Dean gave them both a nervous look while he snuck in to pick up Castiel’s suitcase and place it by his own in the trunk. “Castiel Novak.”

For a moment, Castiel was afraid John would refuse his hand, or worse, squeeze it in one of those silly manly competitions of who can ruin whose bones first. Fortunately, John did neither. He gave Castiel a proper handshake, and seemed impressed that Castiel’s grip wasn’t weak either.

“Call me John,” he said, his face breaking out into a soft smile.

“Cas,” Castiel supplied in kind, returning the smile. “I hear you’re responsible for the amount of AC/DC I have to put up with on a daily basis.”

John laughed, dropping his hand. “You better not be undoing all my hard work on raising my son good and proper,” he teased.

“Well, I did get him to eat broccoli at dinner yesterday,” Castiel said with a smirk.

“Hey!” Dean called from the other side of the car, opening the door. “Can we stop talking about me now? I’d like to get home and get a piece of Mom’s pie in Cas.” He suddenly blushed. “That came out wrong.”

Both John and Castiel laughed, and Castiel was no longer nervous about meeting Dean’s family.

~

Mary, as Dean had warned him, swooped Castiel into her arms and welcomed him into her home like she’d known him his whole life. Sam was much more adorable than Dean had let on. He greeted Castiel with a smile and a handshake, asked him what he was studying in school, and then proceeded to ask a million questions about what pre-med was like and if he thought it was harder than pre-law.

Dean interrupted them, steering Castiel into the kitchen and urging him to sit down at a well-used eat-in kitchen table. He shuffled around the kitchen while Castiel sat amused in his chair, looking around the room. It was warm, and much like the family room he had first entered, obviously a room in a house full of love and family and memories. There were a lot of repairs that could have been done, missing knobs and scratches in the varnish on the cabinets, the fridge looked like it’d seen better days, and the floor was dated, but Castiel thought it was the best kitchen he’d ever seen.

Dean plopped down a plate in front of him before sitting down opposite him. Castiel looked down at a beautiful piece of cherry pie and just started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Mary asked walking into the kitchen.

“Apparently your cherry pie tells hilarious jokes,” Dean answered. He looked more than a little put out.

“It’s 4:00 in the afternoon, there is clearly some kind of dinner in the oven, I have barely been inside your house for ten minutes, and you’re putting pie in front of me,” Castiel explained. “You must really love this pie.”

Mary snorted as she shuffled along by the oven, but didn’t comment.

Dean looked around the room like its occupants were conspiring against him. “Just try it.”

Castiel shook his head, but picked up the provided fork anyway. He stabbed at the pie, scooping the tip onto the fork, and bringing it to his mouth.

He moaned like a whore, and he was not ashamed to admit it.

“Told ya,” Dean said with a smirk, picking up his own fork to dig into his slice.

“Shut up, I’m eating ambrosia pie,” Castiel mumbled around a mouthful of cherry red pie.

Dean was too busy guzzling his own piece down to comment.

It appeared Dean has his priorities straight. Delicious food first, details later. So it was only after they had eaten pie that Dean gave him the tour of the house. Dean had a very sweet setup, with his bedroom in the basement. It was a big bedroom, Dean had his own queen sized bed, and access to a full bath that wasn’t technically his private one, but Castiel doubted anyone but Dean ever used it. The arrangement provided the privacy all teenage boys desired.

The rest of the basement was finished with carpet and soft lighting and looked like a great spot to hang out. There was a sofa and recliner facing an older, but still nice TV, and a PlayStation 2 with a few video games. Dean informed him that the sofa was actually a sleeper sofa, and that’s where he would be sleeping. They dropped their bags off, and Dean took him back upstairs, showed him the back room that he hadn’t seen yet, before taking him upstairs to show him the two bedrooms and a bedroom turned office.

“That’s pretty much it,” Dean said, gesturing around the office. “Not much, but it’s home.” He looked a little concerned, maybe even embarrassed.

“I think it’s brilliant, Dean,” Cas responded, his eyes wandering around the office, taking in the pictures on the walls. “Why do you say it’s ‘not much’?”

Dean shrugged. “I know your family was loaded Cas, that Gabriel still is. You have to be used to fancier digs than this.”

Cas looked over to Dean. The last thing he ever wanted was for his friend to feel inferior because of money. He didn’t give two shits about how much money he had, but he knew that was privileged thinking he could afford. Sometimes he truly wished his bank account had a few less zeros. “It’s a beautiful home Dean,” he said as sincerely as he could. “Warm and inviting. It’s nice to be able to walk about without worry that I’m going to break something if I sneeze wrong.”

Dean nodded a few times, but still seemed insecure.

“Hey, want to play some Battlefronts downstairs? We don’t have Halo here, but kicking Sam’s ass at Star Wars is nearly just as fun,” Dean said, already making his way out of the room. Castiel had the distinct impression he was avoiding something. He had a feeling he’d find out what eventually.

~

He didn’t have to wait very long. They were sitting down to eat dinner in the Winchester’s dining room, a nice, cozy room with a cherry wood table and pale yellow walls, when John walked in and paused, surveying the food. Mary had made prime rib with mashed potatoes, steamed green beans, and rolls on the side. John gave Mary a sharp look.

“Hush,” Mary said quickly. “We have a guest. We can afford it for one night.”

John clearly wanted to argue with Mary, but he glanced over to Cas before nodding and taking his seat.

“I might have found a job anyway,” John mumbled, sitting down. “Bobby Singer said he could use a hand at his salvage yard.”

Mary paused, her hand hovering over the spoon to the mashed potatoes. Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Castiel observed all of this, a feeling of unease creeping up. The pause in movement and conversation was heavy. Eventually Dean coughed pointedly, and said, “So how much pie is left for dessert?” Everyone laughed, the tension successfully broken. Mary and John began chatting about something else, while Castiel looked at Dean questioningly, but Dean just shook his head. “Make sure you get some green beans before Sam eats them all,” he said quietly.

~

Castiel was downstairs, flipping through the channels on the TV with his head on his left hand, propped up on the arm of the couch, when Dean found him. Cas had been ordered out of the kitchen and told that if he dared try to help clean up, they would whack him with a spoon. Then, just prove they were not above utensil related violence, they whacked Dean on the head for trying to escape with Cas.

Dean plopped down next to him on the couch without a word, throwing his head back and spreading his legs slightly in a relaxing pose. He looked ready to fall asleep.

“I talked to your Dad,” Cas said out of nowhere.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, sitting up.

“I tried to offer him some money in thanks for letting me stay here.”

Dean stared at him in disbelief, blinking hard a few times, as if to make sure he was actually awake. “Cas, I am impressed. He must like you a lot. You still have your limbs.”

Castiel chuckled. “I figured out it was a mistake when he turned red and started speaking in something that sounded more like German than English. I don’t think it was actually a real language anywhere in the global world. I told him to forget I mentioned it.” Castiel scratched the back of his head. “I would have apologized, but I thought that would only make it worse.”

“Dad’s a very proud man,” Dean said in agreement.

Castiel put the remote down and paused. But he had already decided, so he turned towards Dean and asked bluntly, “When did your dad lose his job?” Then added on, “Is this why you strip?”

Castiel knew he was prying, but he also knew Dean wouldn’t talk about it if he didn’t want to. They had that rapport. He could blow it off, give him a sharp look and change the topic, anything, and Castiel would understand. Dean could be stubborn, but Castiel sensed Dean needed to talk about this. He was, perhaps, the only one in Dean’s life that Dean could confide in when it came to stripping. He was the only one who knew.

As Dean began to talk, Cas knew he had been right. Dean told him all about his Dad being fired from the car dealership he worked for, suddenly and without reason by Mr. Crowley, who had just bought the place. They found out a few months before Dean left for school, but they insisted he go anyway, that they would find a way to help him, even if the best they could do was help him find loans. They had threatened to never bake another pie again if he dared think about not going to school and going straight to work instead.

“We’re doing okay,” Dean said softly to his collapsed hand, resting gently in his lap. “But we still need all the help we can get. And Sammy… He’s smart, ya know? Dreaming big about school, far bigger than my meager major in criminal justice. I can’t risk him not being able to get into the program he wants because of money. Scholarships aren’t a guarantee.”

Castiel set silent for a moment while Dean fidgeted nervously. He was worried about Castiel judging him, but judging Dean was the last thought in Castiel’s mind.

“You put too much pressure on yourself,” Castiel finally said carefully. “And your family wouldn’t want this for you, you have to know that.”

“Of course I know that. But my going to school takes money out of my family’s hands, money that could be going to Sam’s college fund. I have to help, Cas, I have to send them every dime I can, while they still think it’s coming from a convenience store gig,” Dean said with a bit more conviction. He finally lifted his head and met Castiel’s eyes, pleading with him to understand.

Castiel understood everything of course, far more than Dean probably would have preferred. Because he not only understood how important family was and how loyal and giving Dean was, he also understood how stubborn Dean could be. He understood Dean far better than he would have thought possible after only a few months together, but he was still learning a lot too. The depths to which Dean was willing to go to help his family were astonishing.

Castiel searched Dean’s eyes for a long, loaded moment. He was pretty certain this wasn’t normal friend behavior, even in the middle of a deep discussion, but he could never seem to bring himself to break eye contact.

“You’re a good man,” Castiel finally said, breaking the silence. Dean blushed at the unexpected compliment and looked away. He was saved from having to reply by Sam bouncing down the stairs, breaking the tension in the air.

“Man,” Sam said, collapsing into a recliner. “I can’t believe Dad brought up working for Bobby.”

“I don’t get it, why’s that a problem?” Castiel asked, sitting up and reaching for his glass of water.

“Because,” Dean explained. “Bobby barely makes enough money to feed himself. He barely gets by. He’d be paying Dad pennies, and still sacrificing for himself.”

“Why would he do that?”

Dean’s lips twitched up fondly. “Dad’s family,” he explained.

“Not blood family,” Sam said from his chair. “But family doesn’t end with blood to a Winchester.”

Dean snorted. “Or a Singer.”

Sam nodded wisely.

Castiel learned a lot about the Winchesters that first night at their house. As they broke out Battlefronts again, he watched Sam and Dean a little closer than he had before. His brother Gabriel had been a good brother to him and he loved him very much, but there was something special about Sam and Dean. Though they punched each other often and mocking and taunts were a common thing when playing a game with them, it was underlined with the kind of love that was selfless and unconditional.

The whole house oozed with the warmth of years of familial bonds.

~

Their days, for once, were spent simply relaxing and hanging out together. Sam, being in high school, wouldn’t be on break until a few days before Christmas, Mary was often at her own job at the bookstore, and John was either working on things around the house, or out trying to find a full-time job. So Dean and Cas were left to their own devices during the days and spent far too much time shooting each other up on the PS2.

Castiel still felt horrible, having so much money and leaching off of the Winchesters all break when they were strapped. So he kept an eye on how he could help without bruising their egos. When John mentioned at dinner that they would have to get the old, crappy fake Christmas tree down from storage because they couldn’t afford a real tree this year, Castiel thought he saw an opening.

“Let me buy the Christmas tree,” Cas told Dean when they were downstairs, alone.

Dean snorted. “It’s not my call, and Dad would never let you do that.”

“We’ll go tomorrow and buy the tree while your Dad thinks you’re just showing me around town,” Castiel explained. An easy enough lie, as Castiel was from a completely different direction to KSU. They grew up at least two hours apart. “We’ll tell him it was free. I don’t know, I saved the owner’s dog or something.”

Dean stared at Castiel evenly for a moment, realizing he was dead serious. “This is important to you.”

“Yes. I think buying your family a real, live, pokey needled Christmas tree is the least I can do.”

Dean still didn’t agree right away. Castiel had a feeling he didn’t like the idea of taking “charity” from Castiel either, but that’s far from what this was about. Not for him.

“I’ll pay for half,” Dean finally said, completely unsurprisingly.

“No,” Castiel replied unyieldingly. Their eyes locked. It was, as Castiel had come to think of it, a stubborn-off. For them, it could go on indefinitely. “Dean, please,” Castiel finally pleaded. “Let me do this.”

Dean continued to stubborn-off him for a minute, but Castiel’s eyes had already softened, and that softness wormed its way inside Dean. He deflated completely. “Fine,” he said like he was agreeing to being waterboarded.

Castiel’s grin was big and wide. This was something he could do for them, something to make their Christmas a bit more cheery. If they never knew it was actually from him, he was perfectly okay with that too. It wasn’t about him getting recognition, it was about them getting something nice. Something they all deserved.

So Castiel bought them a very nice tree and Cas and Dean explained their cover story to Mary when her shocked but wary eyes watched Dean carry it inside. She seemed doubtful but happy, and nodded her approval, even as she continued to look at Castiel like he was something new and different.

Dean and Cas were helping Mary string lights on the tree when John walked through the door half an hour later and spotted the tree. Mary cut him off before he even had a chance to get angry or worry about his pride or his authority being so blatantly ignored.

“It was free,” she said. “The owner of the arbor, his dog had broken free and Dean and Castiel chased it down, stopping him from running right across the highway. He offered them the tree in thanks.”

Mary stared at John, and John stared back. Something funny settled in Castiel, as he considered that this looked very much like the stubborn-offs him and Dean shared regularly. The funny feeling in his stomach deepened as John looked straight at him with a curious expression before saying, “It’s a nice tree he offered you.”

They finished getting the lights on the tree, and waited for Sam to get home before they put the rest of the decorations on. The “gigantic moose” (Dean’s terms) got the honor of putting the angel on top of the tree. It was an odd little tree topper, a dark haired angel with blue eyes that was curiously wearing a trench coat, and Dean teased that it looked like Cas. Castiel couldn’t even argue against that. He wasn’t insulted. The trench coat on the ornament angel was a nice one, after all.

Dean and Castiel started a chess game after dinner, Castiel barely beating Dean 30 turns later. Mary brought them some hot cocoa, so they shifted over to the fluffy couch by the fire. They sipped their mugs, exchanging stories from their hometowns and high school life while Sam practiced his piano skills behind them, playing classics with ease.

Castiel was shaken awake by Mary hours later. He and Dean had both fallen asleep after putting their empty mugs on the floor, and had somehow managed to both be sleeping _on_ the other, leaning easily into each other’s warmth. Mary smiled fondly at them while she shuffled them downstairs to their beds, which they collapsed on, fully clothed.

It had been a good day.

~

They dragged Castiel to midnight mass. He didn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful, and it hurt nothing to go along, so he did. But Castiel and faith had not been on the same grounding for a long time. He had been raised in a very devout family, but after losing so much of his family, he no longer cared to be inside a church. It wasn’t that he had lost his faith exactly or that he was bitter with God. The church had simply been such a corner stone of his family, it was now a sore spot to be in a place of worship. He wasn’t sure where he stood with his beliefs these days, but he was at peace with them. Whatever they were, they were private, and he was uncomfortable amongst the swaying masses at their Catholic church.

Dean must have picked up something in his mood, because he leaned in at one point during a hymn and said, “This isn’t really my cup of tea either.” Castiel gave him a grateful smile.

“It’s complicated,” Castiel said back.

Dean nodded. He didn’t pry for more information, for which Castiel was grateful.

On Christmas morning, Dean woke Cas up at 6:00 a.m. by jumping on the rickety couch mattress and tickling him. Castiel was glad they were two floors from the rest of the family, because he didn’t think he’d ever screamed as loud as he did at that moment. He would have been embarrassed, if not for the fact that he left a baseball sized bruise on Dean’s ribs for his trouble.

They bounded upstairs, where Sam was already rustling around under the tree. Dean immediately joined him, while Cas took a seat in the arm chair off to the side. He smiled while he watched them dig around, careful not to open anything just yet, but as excited as 8 year olds none-the-less.

Mary and John weren’t too far behind their sons. They both required a cup of coffee before they would let anyone dig in, much to their dismay. After they settled down on the couch, they gave the signal, and Dean and Sam tore into the gifts.

There weren’t many presents, and none of them were luxurious, but it was clear how much effort John and Mary had gone to making sure their sons had presents that would make them happy. Dean got a few used games for his PlayStation, some new jeans and a nice green polo that Castiel knew would bring out his eyes. As far as Castiel could tell amongst the chaos of paper and ribbon, Sam had received some games as well, and stuff for school. He seemed quite fond of the organizer he opened towards the end.

“Hey,” Dean said softly, standing at his feet. “You got some stuff.”

“What?” Castiel asked, completely confused.

“This is from mom and dad, and this one’s from Sammy, I think,” Dean explained, handing him two packages.

“Dean,” he said, taking the packages from him, “I’ve only known your family for a few weeks.”

“Yeah, well, I think they like you,” Dean said with a lopsided smile.

“And don’t think I don’t know where that tree really came from,” John called out.

Castiel blushed profusely, over-whelmed. He looked up to John and Mary, said, “Thank you,” as sincerely as he could. They nodded back at him, affection on both of their faces.

It felt like a branch was growing, forever connecting Castiel to Dean and his family. Though logically he knew he may never see them again. There was every possibility he and Dean would part at the end of the school year, promising to keep in touch, and inevitably failing and drifting apart. The thought made his stomach twist.

He distracted himself by getting up and giving his presents to Sam, Mary and John. They were modest of course, but they seemed equally as touched that he had thought of them, as he had been the other way around. The thought, as they say, really does count far more than the gift itself.

The rest of the morning was spent trying out the new games Sam and Dean had gotten, and lunch was a brunch casserole Mary had made the night before. It was an easy, peaceful day. Gabriel called in the afternoon and they talked for a while. Gabriel promised he had a present coming, but Castiel was certain his gift would be another visit with more trips to strip clubs and getting him smashed. He was okay with that, mostly because he’d never expected anything different from his brother.

Bobby Singer joined them for dinner, a ham with green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and about six types of pie. In the short time he was with them that evening, Castiel concluded he was a man who looked rough around the edges, but was filled with nothing but sweets and love on the inside. It was obvious Bobby was indeed as much a member of the family as Dean and Sam had let on.

Sometime after dinner, they cajoled Sam into playing some Christmas carols around the piano. Castiel had no idea families actually did such corny things. Even he thought they were corny, and he liked musical theatre, which put out some of the corniest songs ever made. They had fun with the carols, acting out lines, changing notes and words. It was reverent of the holiday, but far from boring or stuffy. It was a family tradition that was obviously well cherished and Castiel had not experienced such a thing ever before.

Mary and John went to bed after a few carols, and Dean and Sam switched over to singing all of the lyrics with as much crudeness as they could muster. In fact, Castiel was pretty sure it was a competition, coming up with the worst. So when Castiel requested Sam play Hark the Herald Angel and turned the lyrics into a song about strippers with a penchant for rimming and anal play, he sent Sam and Dean into rolls of laughter and was crowned the King of Dirty Carols. Dean’s faint blush was endearing.

“Dude, I didn’t know you could sing,” Dean commented seriously when he’d stopped laughing and some redness had faded from his cheeks.

Castiel shrugged. “Mom took us to the theatre when we were little, and I loved it. Taught myself the piano, and she hired a vocal coach for me for a few years. It’s just a hobby though.”

“No shit,” Dean exclaimed. “What else can you sing? Sammy, where’s that Broadway music book?”

“Really?” Castiel asked as the book was handed to him.

“Pick something,” Dean urged.

He flipped through until he spotted a song he knew he could sing, and sing well. It was “Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera.

“You’ll have to be my Christine. I can’t sing this without singing it to someone,” Castiel said with a sly smile.

Dean shrugged. “Okay.”

Castiel wasn’t sure Dean knew what he was agreeing to, but as the notes started and Castiel began to sing, Dean went easily along with it. Castiel serenaded him. He put everything into the song. Of course, it was a little over the top and he was only goofing around, but as he spun around the room, pulling out the hard notes of “close your eyes, let the music set you free” and occasionally spinning in to capture Dean’s hands and stare longingly into his eyes, he felt completely in his element.

The music stopped with him holding Dean’s hands, standing closer than normal personal space would dictate, and he was breathing hard. Curiously, Dean looked a little flushed himself. There was an awkward moment before Dean dropped his hands and took a step back.

“That was amazing Cas. You should try out for the musical theatre department.”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m terrified of being on stage, Dean. There’s a reason I never pursued this.”

“You would be amazing though,” Sam agreed, sliding out from behind the piano. He yawned. “Mario Kart tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Dean agreed, ruffling his hair as he passed, heading upstairs to his bedroom. Dean inclined his head towards the door to the basement, and Castiel nodded his agreement.

He went to pull out the couch, but Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something,” Dean said softly. “Wait here a second, okay?” As Dean disappeared into his bedroom, Cas turned to his suitcase and dug through to the bottom, where he retrieved his own package for Dean.

“I got you something too,” Castiel said when Dean reappeared. He gave Castiel a wary look, and exchanged packages slowly.

Dean bounced it in his hand a few times, feeling the weight. It was a fairly heavy gift. “On three?” he proposed. Castiel agreed. “One, two, three.”

Dean’s gift to him was a beautiful fountain pen. The pen had been embossed with his name. It was far too nice for someone who was saving every dime for his family. He was going to protest, but then Dean made a choked off sound and Castiel looked up to see him holding the Xbox like it was going to bite him.

“It’s too much, Cas,” Dean said quietly.

“No, it’s not,” Castiel said stubbornly. “I got it used, okay? Besides, everything your family has done for me this break, I really can’t thank you enough.” Dean didn’t look convinced though. “Look at it this way. It was purely a selfish gift. I’ll be using that thing as stress relief when I kick your ass in Halo day after day.”

Dean let out a burst of laughter, and Castiel knew he had said the right thing.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see who does the ass kicking.”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. So far, with Battlefronts, it was obvious who the ass kicker was. But it was still technically Christmas, so he let it go.

“Thank you for the pen. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was, Castiel decided, the best Christmas he’d ever had.

~

**Tuesday, March 23 rd 2010**

“Mmm, how about those girls Cas? They’re hot. Maybe a double date?”

They were eating lunch in the Student Center, where the food court offered a couple of different fast food choices. The seating was scattered through two stories, and an eclectic mix of music played throughout, courtesy of the campus radio station.

Castiel turned to look at the two girls, but turned back to Dean with a disinterested look on his face. “If you want to go ask one of them out, go for it.”

“Dude, seriously? Not even them?” Dean asked, surprised. They were extremely hot, by anyone’s standards. Then something clicked. “Sorry, I completely forgot. Demisexual, right?”

Castiel’s lips quirked. “I’m surprised you remember the term. But that has nothing to do with it, really. Romantic attraction is different from sexual.” Castiel said, biting a fry. He looked at Dean, who must have looked a little lost, because Castiel clarified, “I’m just not interested in casual dating. I’d rather be with you. Or Victor or Jo, or Chuck and Becky.”

Dean shrugged. “Dating is complicated anyway.”

“Is that why you haven’t been doing it much?”

Dean sat back, surprised at the question. He hadn’t realized he hadn’t been dating much. He’d had a few dates, but they were nothing to write home about. “I guess I’m just distracted right now. Trying to keep my head above water grade wise-“

“Dean you have a 3.4.”

“- and I’ve been busy working.”

Which was the truth. If he wasn’t busy stripping at the club, he was trying to get his homework done. It didn’t leave much time for a social life. He spent his free time kicking Cas’s ass in Halo. At least, he liked to pretend he could kick Castiel’s ass in halo, but the truth was, Cas was far too good with a controller. He could, however, kick Victor’s ass, which was something of a consolation.

Castiel nodded. “I don’t know how you work so much and keep up your grades. I feel like I barely have time myself, and I don’t have a job.”

“You _are_ pre-med, Cas,” Dean pointed out. “With a 4.0.”

Castiel made a face and looked down at his food, apparently thinking that wasn’t good enough. Castiel was what one might call a high achiever. Or overachiever, as Dean had decided when he spent 12 hours studying for a quiz in psychology 101. Dude was a nerd. A nerd that was way too good at violent first person shooters, but a nerd nonetheless. And if Dean thought it was adorable when the nerd fell asleep drooling on his textbook, well, no one needed to know.

The song on the radio changed over from a pop song to something a bit more rock and roll. It was “One” from Symphony and Metallica. Dean had always loved the unique blend of metal rock with the strings of a symphony. He had just closed his eyes to nod along to the music when Castiel spoke up.

“This song is amazing,” he said. “Do you know what it is?”

Dean’s eyes snapped open and his mouth might have been hanging a bit. “You like this?” Castiel nodded. “But you’re not a huge rock fan.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just have never heard anything that sounded as captivating as this,” Castiel said with a shrug.

Just as Dean was going to explain S&M to his friend, the song ended and the DJ explained it for him. The DJ went on to announce that a local cover band, The Confused Violets, would be joining KSU’s symphony orchestra for a one-time performance, covering songs from S&M with some new rock and symphony mashups composed by a grad student as part of their thesis project.

Castiel’s eyes were shining when he said, “We should go to that.”

Dean could have kissed him.

~

“I don’t understand why I have to wear a tie. We’re not wearing suits. This is a rock concert, Dean,” Castiel bemoaned, holding the limp thing in his hand.

“Because you look good in it, and we are going to look hot tonight,” Dean explained yet again as he finished tying his boots. “Not all ties are for business suits.”

Castiel sighed as he wrapped the tie around his neck. “I don’t understand why it’s important that we look good.”

Dean wasn’t really sure why either, other than the fact that they rarely got to go out and do something, and Dean hadn’t put on an “I’m here to pick up a banging hottie” outfit in months. He wanted his friend to look as hot as he did, and the vest over that long sleeved button down was topped off quite nicely with the tie Castiel was struggling to put on. The jeans kept it casual.

“Trust me, Cas,” Dean said.

“Fine,” Castiel responded, finishing the knot. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

Dean grabbed his wallet and keys, stopping at the mirror in the bathroom to check himself out. He loved when he could be sexy without being nearly naked. The black, silken button down top and the jeans his mom had got him at Christmas that fortunately for him, happen to hug his ass in all the right ways, were definitely working for him. The odds of picking someone up tonight were looking up.

“Whoa,” Dean said, coming out of the bathroom, spotting Cas. “You are _not_ ready.”

Castiel frowned. “I’m not?”

Dean stepped into Castiel’s personal space and reached for the poorly knotted tie. He undid it easily, and retied it with a double Windsor. When he stepped back, Castiel was staring at him with amusement.

“I apologize for my crimes against the tie kind,” Castiel said, his eyes still lit with humor.

“Damn straight,” Dean responded, thumping him on the shoulder. “Now let’s go rock this thing.”

The concert was amazing. Sure, they had crappy seats and even though the arena was no smoking, smoke kept billowing in from somewhere. But they were having a blast anyway. Dean was screaming lyrics, Cas was screaming _something_ , and it turned out the two of them made a pretty awesome air band. It was easily the most fun Dean had had in ages.

Dean did get hit on. He’d noticed a bunch of girls in his area, and a guy or two, checking him out. They also checked out Cas, though he remained oblivious to the attention. They were on the their way out when a hot girl in a skirt so short he wasn’t sure it didn’t violate some decency laws, put her hand on his arm and said, “Hey there handsome. Looking for something to do tonight?”

Dean blinked a few times, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah,” he said intelligently. “Yeah babe,” he added, recovering quickly. “Give me a second with my friend, I’ll be right with you.” She looked a little annoyed, so he added his patented Winchester wink and she backed away a few steps.

“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel said before Dean could even finish turning to him. “I’ve seen people looking at you-“

“Us,” Dean corrected automatically.

“-all night. Go ‘hit that.’ I can get back on my own just fine.”

Castiel was so sincere, so selfless. He turned around and started heading back for the dorms on his own, hands in his pockets. Dean stared at Castiel’s retreating form, and looked back at the girl so willing to take him home, and came to a quick decision. The girl, though gorgeous, held no real interest for him. But he’d been having an amazing night with Castiel.

“Maybe next time!” Dean hollered at the girl before jogging to catch up to Castiel.

Castiel had been humming one of the songs from the evening, but stopped to smile at Dean when he caught up. “I thought she was just your thing,” he commented.

“Yeah, well. Maybe all your talk about not wanting casual hookups rubbed off on me,” Dean explained, bumping his elbow.

“Hmm,” Castiel said thoughtfully. “Now if only my ability to put my dirty socks in my laundry hamper could wear off on you.”

“Never,” Dean said with a laugh.

**Thursday, April 22 nd 2010**

_Hey Cas, do u know what the square root of 69 is?_

_Eight something._

_… Do u live to ruin my jokes._

_Yes._

Class was about to start, which was Dean’s favorite time to text him. He hadn’t stopped sending Castiel bad jokes since he started all those months ago, and he often wonders where on Earth Dean gets them all. He thought they were done with this conversation when he felt his phone vibrate again.

_We still running when u get out of class?_

As promised, they had picked up running together after the Christmas break. If they had chickened out and decided to wait until the weather got warmer, no one needed to know.

_That depends on how many more bad jokes you text me._

_Fine, but ur missing out. The next one was going to be about midgets._

Castiel was going to respond with something about Dean’s dreams the night before and how he was mumbling about the clown midgets getting him, but he was interrupted when the teacher walked in to the room to start class. He put his phone on vibrate, slipped it back into his pocket, and sat through class with a smile.

They decided to run through campus instead of heading to a park. The campus featured stretching and strengthening posts that could be used individually, or as part of a running course, which they both appreciated and needed to make use of. Dean was concerned with getting flabby and losing his job, and Cas was worried about keeping his cardiovascular system healthy, what with all the cookies Dean’s mom liked to send them.

They were on a stretch that ran along a public road, lots of people walking to and from restaurants and shopping and campus, when someone let out a wolf call.

“I’m telling you Lilly, that’s him,” they heard a girl say to her friend. They were sitting in the grass about 20 feet away and had books out, apparently attempting to study. “That’s the hot stripper from the club.”

“Damn, look at that ass,” her friend said. “You weren’t kidding Meg.”

Castiel shot Dean a look, but Dean merely shrugged, rolled his eyes and kept going. Castiel was a little put off by hearing his friend being talked about with so much objectification, but he was willing to take Dean’s lead on how to handle it. At least until he heard the next words.

“I wonder how much it would cost to get him in bed.”

Castiel stopped abruptly.

“Let it go, Cas,” Dean urged him quietly.

Castiel shook his head sharply and stormed up through the grass to the girl’s feet. They stopped giggling.

“His name is Dean, you vultures, and he is not a hooker. He is a good man, not a toy for you to play with and buy,” Castiel steamed.

“Please Cas, let it go,” Dean said again, grabbing Castiel’s elbow and pulling. He didn’t budge.

The girl named Meg let her mouth twist into a sneer that held way too much smugness. “You know,” she said, “It’s a shame you obviously have his cock shoved up your ass on a daily basis, or I would buy you too.”

Castiel saw red. He didn’t realize that was an expression that was actually physically possible, but it is. That _harpy_ would have needed surgery, and Castiel would have needed bail money, if Dean hadn’t wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him away. Meg and Lilly laughed through the entire thing.

Castiel was still seeing red when Dean pushed him to sit on the steps up to a bar that hadn’t opened yet. He put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder while he panted and tried to clear his head. Dean didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. When Castiel’s head was a little clearer, he looked up to Dean and met his eyes. They conveyed everything that needed to be said, a whole conversation existing between them in moments. The gratitude, the sympathy, the concern, the loyalty was all written there.

“You want to head in, or should we keep running?” Dean asked when the moment had passed.

“Run,” Castiel said quickly, standing up. Running always helped clear his head.

Unfortunately, days later, their track record with running wouldn’t improve.

They were just getting started, still building up to a good pace when a little scrappy dog, a mutt that resembled a yorkie, darted out of nowhere and straight for Dean’s ankles. In the feverish instant that Dean tried to avoid stepping on the animal, he succeeded in tripping over it entirely and landed hard on the ground.

“Dean!” Castiel cried, kneeling down next to him. The yorkie stayed, sniffing at Dean. Castiel ignored it for the moment, more worried about his friend. “Are you okay?”

Dean sat up with the groan. There were scrapes along his arms and his chin was bleeding. “I don’t know man, my ankle hurts like hell, but I can’t tell if it’s broken. You’re pre-med, you tell me.” Castiel nodded, moving down Dean’s body to his ankle. The right one was swelling. As he probed gently, Dean picked the dog up. “You rotten homeless mutt,” Dean muttered, though he didn’t sound as angry as his words implied. Castiel glanced up to see him nearly smiling at the tiny thing.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but we should get you to University Hospital anyway and have a scan done,” Castiel said, standing up. Dean seemed a little distracted, rubbing the dog’s ears. “There’s an animal clinic near there, maybe we could drop ‘Trippy’ off there.”

Dean nodded his agreement. “Most accurate impromptu name for a dog ever,” he mumbled. He set Trippy down and tried to stand, but a painful shriek came out instead.

“Let me help,” Castiel said, bending over to help Dean up.

It was tough going. Dean’s ankle was really bothering him, continuing to swell. He had to lean on Cas pretty hard, his arm around his friend’s shoulders for support. He had Trippy tucked under his other arm, which didn’t help their mobility.

They did make it eventually, and the animal clinic was fortunately on the way to the hospital. They dropped Trippy off, and headed straight to the ER. Dean was taken back for X-rays while Castiel was peppered with questions, some of them rather more prying than he would like.

Dean didn’t appear until quite a while later, well after the sun had set. He wobbled out with the help of a nurse, clutching a bottle of prescription meds.

“It’s just a sprain,” Dean explained. “But it’s a bad one. I nearly snapped something I guess, I don’t know. They told me to stay off of it for a few days and gave me happy pain pills.”

“No crutches?”

Dean snorted. “Those things are expensive. You can be my crutch till we get back to our room,” Dean said, gesturing for Cas to come to him.

They made their way back to the room at a slightly faster pace than they had made it to the ER. During the trip, Castiel discovered that Dean had already been given a few pain pills, and was slowly descending into the loopy, feel-good drug trip only the really good stuff can cause.

“Get in bed,” Castiel said when they made it to their room. “I’ll call the club and let them know you won’t be coming in tonight.”

“I stink,” Dean whined. “I’m all smelly Cas. I need a shower. Or a sponge bath. Will you give me a sponge bath, Cas?”

“No,” Castiel said with a snort. “But I will help you out of your running clothes and into some pajamas.”

Dean pouted.

Castiel laughed.

“Stop trying those Winchester charms on me you drug addled loon,” Castiel told him with nothing but fondness. “Now sit up.”

It was also not the easiest job of the night, getting a half-baked man with a bad ankle out of his dirty running clothes and into some clean ones, but they managed. Castiel called the club before changing himself. He looked at Dean, who was staring at his hands like they held the mysteries of human existence in them, when Dean’s phone went off from across the room, on the desk.

“It’s your mom,” Castiel said, looking down at the screen. “Mrs. Winchester,” he answered.

“I love you mommy!” Dean called from the bed, drawing out the last syllable way too long.

Per policy, the hospital had called Dean’s parents for him, and Mary was panicking. Castiel calmed her down, promising that Dean was okay, and that he’s a little high on drugs right now, but he’d have Dean call her as soon as he was feeling a bit better.

Mary said, “I know he’s in good hands with you, sweetheart,” just before hanging up. Castiel tried not to dwell too much on that.

Castiel turned off the lights and was about to crawl up the ladder to his bunk when a hand wrapped around his leg.

“Stay with me,” Dean said, sounding almost normal again. Castiel blinked several times. “Please?” Dean said softly.

It sounds so sincere, that all Castiel could do was comply. Dean scooted back so Castiel could climb in. Somehow, sharing a bed didn’t seem so weird any more.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said, just before nodding off, “room again with me next year?”

Castiel smiled, but hesitated. “I hope that isn’t just the drugs talking.”

“Course not,” Dean mumbled. “You’re the best, Cas.”

“Can’t argue against that,” Castiel replied.

“Is that a yes?” Dean mumbles again, flopping out a hand to smack Castiel lightly in the side.

“It’s a yes.”

Dean sighed peacefully, and two seconds later, was snoring.


	2. Second Year

Summer passed uneventfully. Dean spent the hot, lazy days playing video games with Sammy, swimming down at the community pool, getting a tan, doing a few odd jobs for this landscaping company, and trying to get together with his old high school friends. But mostly, he talked to Cas. On the phone, via text, chatting on Skype. He wanted to call Cas via Skype and do the visual thing, but it seemed like an awkward step for some reason, so he never asked. They did manage to meet up for a long weekend here and there, but Dean lived in Lawrence and Castiel was from Wichita, and the drive was almost two hours. He’d been tempted to ask his mom if Cas could just stay with them for the entire summer, but he knew that was selfish of him. Money was still tight, and Castiel had his own home.

All in all, he was anxious for summer to end, to get back to Cas and their new dorm room together, to get back to their friends, hell, he even missed going to class and working at the club. Selling your looks made a lot of money after all.

_Hey Cas, we can get into our new room two weeks early if I request Early Check In._

He sent Cas the text and bit his lip. He wasn’t outright asking Cas to check in early with him, but it was implied. Was he being presumptuous?

Castiel’s immediate reply was simply, “Yes.”

**Friday September 10 th 2010**

They moved in to the dorm two weeks early, happy to see that it was a little bigger than their previous room, but essentially the same setup. They sent Victor and Chuck a text to see which building their room would be in and found out they were in the building next door. Perhaps not _quite_ as easy to sneak in a quick game here or there, but close enough.

Dean started back up at the club, and was given a small raise for, “Rockin’ that killer tan.” Dean had rolled his eyes at that, but wasn’t about to turn down the money. Ash was an unusual boss to work for, but there were some perks to it.

Gabriel dropped by two weeks into class.

There was a bang as the door slammed open and a short man with sandy blonde hair and a pointy nose strode in, loudly proclaiming, “YO BRO!” for the world to hear.

Unfortunately for Dean, he had just stepped out the bathroom and was wearing nothing but a towel. He had been expecting an empty room, since Cas was at his group meeting at the library, so the man was lucky he at least had a towel around his waist.

“Uh,” Dean mumbled intelligently.

“Whoa,” the man said, taking a step back. “When did Castiel turn into a hot, tall guy?”

“Castiel has always been a hot, tall guy,” Dean shot back quickly, then instantly turned red as Gabriel’s eyebrows raised. “Right, well. Castiel’s at the library.” Dean went to his dresser, pulled out some clothes and headed for the bathroom. “I’m his roommate Dean, and I’m just going to go get a little less nude, if that’s okay with you?” He said it with some attitude, none too happy with the way the guy was watching him with a mix of amusement and checking him out.

“I don’t know, you are pretty hot,” Gabriel said with a meaningful look. “But sure, yeah, I guess I shouldn’t hit on my bro’s boyfriend anyway.”

“What? That’s not- We’re not-” Dean replied from the bathroom. “We’re just roommates!” Dean fumbled into a pair of jeans and then quickly reached for his phone. He ignored Gabriel’s snort as he sent Cas a quick text.

_911 dude ur bro is here_

He went to put the shirt on and realized he had grabbed one of Castiel’s by mistake. Normally he wouldn’t think a thing of it, as they’ve shared plenty of shirts before, both on accident and because Dean might occasionally be a bit late on doing his laundry. But Gabriel had him on edge. He was fairly confident walking out there in Castiel’s t-shirt would be a huge mistake. Especially this shirt, as it was from the Broadway show Wicked and Dean didn’t think he gave off musical theatre nerd vibes. He’d have to grab a new one when he left the bathroom.

Which he wasn’t ready to do just yet, not until Castiel was here and could handle his brother. He stalled by finding his electric razor, plugging it in, and turning it on.

He didn’t have to buy much time until he heard the door slam open. Castiel was panting so hard, he heard it over the sound of his razor.

“Bro!” Gabriel let out cheerfully.

“Gabe,” Castiel replied with a reserved tone. “What are you doing here? Where’s Dean?”

“I was in the area and wanted to surprise you,” Gabriel said with a verbal shrug. “You’re as welcoming as your boyfriend. He’s avoiding me by pretending to shave.”

Dean slammed the razor down and yanked the bathroom door open. “I was not pretending to shave,” he said too harshly.

Castiel muttered, “And for the nine thousandth time, he is not my boyfriend,” as Gabriel’s mouth fell open. He was staring at Dean like he was seeing him for the first time. His eyes lingered over Dean’s naked chest and, particularly, the way his jeans hung on his hips.

“Cassie,” Gabriel said smoothly, “when were you going to tell me I had ordered you a lap dance with your roommate?”

Castiel groaned into his palm and Dean blushed, reaching quickly for any freaking thing to cover his chest with.

Gabriel sat down in the desk chair and beamed with delight.

If he was here for the weekend, it was going to be a long one.

~

Dean of course worked both Friday and Saturday night, and Gabriel, of course, wanted to go. Both nights. Castiel had begged him, Dean had threatened him, but Gabriel insisted there was nothing awkward in watching a hot man strip, regardless of your personal relationship with the person. He also said the chicks at Dean’s club were hotter than sin, and he was hoping to hook up with Kali again.

Castiel had planned on not coming, but he sent Dean a text about fifteen minutes before he was set to hit the stage, warning him that Gabriel had tickled him into submission. Dean laughed at that until he got another text.

_Don’t you dare laugh at that or I’ll pounce on you at 5 in the morning and tickle you till you piss yourself._

Cas would, too, and he’d probably succeed in his goal. Castiel was damn scary when he wanted to be, and damn good with his body. His lean muscles weren’t for nothing, and he likely learned a lot in years of defending himself from Gabe. So Dean’s sense of self-preservation kicked in and he switched subjects.

_Is your bro going to order another lap dance? I can refuse you know._

Castiel’s reply came quickly. _I’ll pay you double to refuse._

 _Pay me triple for a private show?_ Dean asked, smirking to himself. They had been doing this for a while, play flirting. It was fun and harmless. Castiel was quite witty when he wanted to be.

_I get that for free every day._

Such as now.

“Winchester! You ready?” Andy hollered, coming round the corner. Dean looked down at his jeans and AC/DC t-shirt and realized he still needed to change. He sent one last text to Castiel before moving to get his outfit together. The Priest getup was a classic.

_Have to get ready. See u later?_

_I dare say so. We do live together._

Dean set his phone down wondering if Castiel wasn’t so much being witty right now, as being pissy because his older brother was in town and was acting like an older brother.

Given what little Dean had interacted with the guy, he was willing to guess the latter. They had grabbed lunch together and showed Gabriel the campus, and he had decided the guy wasn’t _completely_ obnoxious. Sometimes he even seemed fun. Most of the time though, he was grating, and seemed to have a particular fondness for tormenting Dean.

He took the stage with his patented big grin and covertly scanned the room for Gabriel and Castiel. They weren’t hard to spot. They were up front and slightly to the side. Gabriel was cat-calling like a wild man, but Castiel had his arms crossed and had the look on his face that only a put-upon younger sibling knows. He wasn’t watching when Dean first took the stage, but when Dean got down to only his lower half covered, Castiel looked up and Dean caught his eye. Dean winked as he gyrated his hips with extra force. Castiel huffed and shook his head, but Dean saw the little hint of a smile that he was hoping for.

Gabriel, thankfully, did not even try to get a lap dance out of Dean.

Despite Gabriel being a bit too much to handle, Castiel seemed a bit more cheerful in the days after Gabriel left. Which was hardly surprising, given that Gabriel was the only family he had left and he didn’t get to see him much. He knew firsthand how rejuvenating family could be. So he joined Cas in his good mood, because moods were infectious.

It all changed the day Dean came home from class to find Castiel staring catatonically at his phone, and he knew instantly something was horribly, horribly wrong.

“What is it?” Dean asked, dropping his bag carelessly at the door and crossing to Castiel quickly.

Castiel looked up, and he seemed surprised that Dean was there. He blinked a few times, as if trying to bring himself to reality. “Um,” he said, flipping his phone around in his hand, looking down to watch. “Family lawyer called. Gabe’s dead.”

“What?” Dean asked quickly, completely shocked. “How-“

“Bar fight accident,” Castiel said, still not looking up. He snorted. “He was trying to stop it, if you’ll believe it.”

Dean stood in front of Cas, uncertain of what to say or do. Gabriel had practically raised Cas, and he knew that, despite appearances, they were pretty close. Dean couldn’t even begin to comprehend losing someone so important to you. And if Dean was shocked, he couldn’t imagine how Castiel was feeling.

What he did know was that his friend’s world had just been turned upside down, and he wasn’t going to let him face that alone.

Dean dropped to his knees in front of Castiel so that they were at eye level, and waited for Castiel to look up and meet his eye. “Hey. You’re not going to go through this alone.”

It was either the very right thing to say, or the very worst, because that was when Castiel broke. He held Castiel as he wept into his shoulder. Just as he would hold him that night when Castiel crawled into his bed and cried some more.

And he was there for Cas when he needed to make arrangements and deal with business calls. He was there when Castiel spread Gabriel’s ashes in the creek that ran behind the candy store in their home town, and he would have been there for the funeral, but Castiel decided not to have one. All of Gabe’s friends were overseas and not close enough to him to want to fly out.

He woke up one night and found Castiel staring out at the moon. He reached out a hand and pulled Castiel in to bed. Sharing the bed was becoming more and more common, but as they both seemed to need it on some level, they didn’t question it. Usually, they just slept, sometimes they talked. It was comforting just to have the other less than an arm’s length away.

That night, Castiel felt like talking.

“It still feels so strange, Dean,” Castiel said. “He was here, being perfectly normal Gabe. How could I possibly have known he’d be taken from me a few days later?”

“I guess that’s the point,” Dean said softly. “We never know. Live life for now, because we never know.”

Castiel nodded. “Did I ever tell you about my family Dean?”

“Not much,” Dean responded.

As Castiel talked about his family, it became apparent how desperately he had needed to do this, to get some of the history off his chest. He talked about how his mother and father had died in a car crash, how he had a young sister named Anna that had been a toddler when it happened, and how she was swept out into the system. Dean learned that Gabriel had been 15 when it happened and got himself declared emancipated at 17 so he could take custody of Castiel as soon as possible. Gabriel’s inheritance included the house and their family had been rich enough and well-connected enough, that they not only had no financial problems, but Gabriel was able to make a name for himself in business without ever going to school. All in all, for having lost his parents, Castiel had been lucky.

“Wait, Cas, back up,” Dean said, stuck on one thing. “You have a sister?”

Castiel shrugged, the dark blue sheets moving with his shoulders. “Supposedly. Gabriel and I have tried to find her many times, but the world is big and the paperwork is bigger. We eventually gave up.”

It seemed to be something that Castiel was at peace with, or perhaps it was another sore wound that he didn’t want to pick at, but knowing that Castiel still had family out there bothered Dean. Cas had time to come to terms with it and let it go, but Dean didn’t have the same years of living with it and getting used to it. He couldn’t let it go. It sat uncomfortably in his gut until the next morning.

Dean awoke to Cas staring at him bleary eyed from under the covers, and it made his heart flutter.

“I’m going to find Anna,” he blurted.

“What?” Castiel asked, sitting up sharply, nearly banging his head on the bunk above.

“I’m going to find her,” Dean said determinedly while Cas crawled out of bed.

He was staring down at Dean in shock. His mouth worked a couple of times before he finally said, small and sad, “No, I don’t think you will,” before turning and walking to the bathroom. He shut the door gently, but the soft click might as well have been a bang.

“I’m going to find her,” Dean repeated to the bottom of the bunk above him. “I promise.”

**Sunday, October 31 st 2010**

Castiel chugged back the bottle of Natty Light and stared at the ace of hearts and king of diamonds in his hand. The flop made him a pair of kings and he was positive he had the best hand. Not that he needed the best hand in order to win, if his pile of winnings was anything to go by. They were betting in candy, and he and Dean were going to need to go running more often if he was going to bring home three bags worth of Hershey’s chocolate products.

He hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party Victor and Chuck were throwing. As with most nights, he’d much prefer to be in his room reading a book or studying. Dean had told him he was being anti-social, and that their friends missed him. He forced Castiel to come along with promises of remembering to do his laundry before his socks stunk up the room.

Castiel still wasn’t sure how that promise was good enough to get him to leave the comfort of a good book, but he was having a better time than he thought he would. It wasn’t a huge bash, just enough people and booze to make it comfortable. Victor, Chuck, Becky, Jo and a few faces he didn’t know were crammed into Victor and Chuck’s two room dorm suite.

Chuck, Dean, Becky and one of the new faces, Mark, all groaned when he laid out his pair with the ace kicker.

“Remind me to never play him for cash,” Dean sighed. “And I’m _good_ at this game.”

Which was true, he did have the second biggest pile of candy, and that’s even with the fact that he’d eaten a good portion of it already. Castiel failed to see what difference it made, who had the biggest pile, since he and Dean would share it all anyway.

“I could let you win,” Castiel said with a half-smile at Dean.

As expected, Dean scoffed. “Fuck that. I’m out guys, I’m taking my winnings before Rounders here gets it all.”

There seemed to be a general agreement to that sentiment, as no more poker hands were dealt that night. Castiel did continue playing cards though, and discovered he and Dean were nearly evenly matched at every game they played, including the ones based on pure luck like War.

He was surprisingly having a good time when some thoughtless words drifted over to him.

“I hear he takes it up the butt so often that he has to wear diapers. Can’t poop right anymore.”

“I don’t even know why he would. Must hurt like hell.”

He and Dean were frozen over their game of Rummy. Dean was biting his lip and looking to the side, clearly unnerved by the conversation. Castiel, on the other hand, felt his blood pressure rising. It was enough that most people had never even heard of his sexuality, but the fact that such misconceptions and phobic behavior still existed towards homosexuality was a rather thorny pet peeve to him.

“That’s not accurate and completely ignorant,” Castiel said, setting his cards down with a thud, rising from the floor. “If not homophobic.” Dean looked up at Cas in shock as he continued to confront two girls with badly bleached blonde hair and streaky fake tans. He proceeded to tell them exactly how anal sex worked, why it didn’t cause incontinence, and was working around to explaining the importance of prostate milking in come control play when the girls finally decided they’d heard enough and fled the room with high pitched squeals and red faces.

The look Castiel shot Dean was full of smugness. Dean’s mouth was hung open in shock and awe. That’s when Castiel realized the entire room was silent and staring at him.

“Dude,” Chuck muttered. “That was badass.” He looked down to his cup and added, “And a little TMI.”

Castiel blushed. “I’m sorry Chuck, I hope they weren’t your friends.”

Victor snorted, “God no, I’ve never seen them before. I think they were party crashers. You did us all a favor man.” He clapped Castiel on the shoulder and gave him a friendly smile. “I’m just going to try to not think about how you know all that stuff.”

Victor was walking away as Castiel said, “Oh, no, it’s just that I’m in Dr. Smith’s Human Sexuality class right now.” That, and he’s done his own extensive research on the matter, but they didn’t need to know that.

Victor looked back and nodded, but Castiel knew he wasn’t convinced.

Dean coughed. “Well, that was interesting.” He stood up with a stretch. “I think that’s enough cards and sex lessons for one night. I’m going to head back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Castiel said quickly, going to retrieve his stash of candy.

“No, it’s fine, Cas, I can walk on my own,” Dean said. Castiel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Chuck called dibs on the next game of Rummy remember? Can’t let The Prophet down.”

Dean thumped Cas in the shoulder before he slid on his jacket and slid out of the room.

Castiel did sit down and joined “The Prophet” (a nickname given when he started writing the horoscopes for The Collegian, the school newspaper) but his head wasn’t in it. He was thinking about Dean and why he would want to walk alone. It gave him a tight feeling in his stomach, and he felt doubly ridiculous when he realized that he’d become attached to doing everything with Dean. Maybe they did need to do some more things apart if he’s going to get his boxers in a wad simply because Dean wanted to walk home on his own.

“Trouble in paradise?” Chuck asked as he laid down yet another set.

“What?”

“You and Dean. You’re solid,” Chuck said with a sympathetic smile.

Castiel blinked a couple times, his head tilting slightly to the side. “We’re just friends, Chuck.”

Chuck snorted so hard he started coughing. “Sure, sure. Of course, that’s what I meant.” He laid down his hand. “Not that it’s not fun completely beating the pants off of you, but I think you’ve delayed long enough. Go find out what’s wrong with your friend.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel that ‘friend’ was put in quotation marks.

When he got back to their dorm room, Dean was sitting in a beanbag chair playing Halo. He didn’t look up when Castiel came in, but he did say, “Hey.”

Castiel sat down in the other beanbag chair, picked up the spare controller and joined the game. After an hour or so of blowing things to bits, Castiel put his controller down.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, quick and to the point.

Dean set his controller to the side and ran a hand through his hair. “No,” Dean replied. For a moment, Castiel thought that would be all he has to say on the matter, but Dean continued. “I just thought I knew you better than that. I didn’t know you had all this experience-“

“I don’t,” Castiel interrupted.

“What?” Dean asked, finally turning to look at him.

“I don’t have any experience beyond some making out and confused groping with a boy named Neil who moved away before I could figure out what I was feeling,” Castiel explained. “I know you have all this experience with-“

“I don’t,” Dean interrupted. He flushed and picked at a loose thread in his jeans. “I mean with guys. I’ve never been with one.”

“I hadn’t assumed you had,” Castiel said sincerely. He was speaking about women. He wondered why Dean would think otherwise.

Dean held his gaze for far too long before coughing and looking away. “So how do you know all that?”

“The internet is a wonderful resource when you’re young and curious,” Castiel said with a smirk and a head tilt.

Dean laughed. “The internet is for porn.”

“And Halo is for blowing shit up,” Castiel replied, picking up his controller with a silent question. Dean answered by picking his own up and un-pausing the game.

They “blew shit up” until it was late, in that timeframe where no one knows whether to call it early morning or late night. Dean crawled into bed, and caught Castiel on his way up the bunk. He crawled under the blankets with Dean without comment.

Just before he dropped off to sleep, Castiel muttered, “They think we’re dating. Chuck and everyone.”

He was honestly expecting Dean to be mad, or shocked, or something unpleasant. He wasn’t expecting Dean to snort and say, “Figures,” just before lapsing into a light snore.

**Friday December 6 th 2010**

It was a given that Castiel would be staying with Dean’s family for Christmas again. If it hadn’t been made clear enough at Thanksgiving, it was certainly made obvious when Dean said, “Dad’s picking us up tomorrow at noon.” Castiel had looked surprised for a brief moment before nodding.

Sam and Mary both gave him a hug as he came through the door and John clapped him on the back.

“Thank you again-“ Castiel began.

“If you thank me one more time-“ John began, but Mary cut him off.

“You’re always welcome here, Castiel,” Mary said with a smile. “You don’t have to thank us.”

“Hey Dad,” Dean said, pulling him away, “can I talk to you for a second?”

He knew Cas watched curiously as he drew his dad aside to talk, but he was going to have to be left guessing for a while longer. Hopefully sooner rather than later if his Dad’s contact in Child Services was as good as he was hoping.

Given how he had longed to get back to school before, it was strange that he was more thrilled to be home now. He supposed, as he helped Castiel pull out the sofa bed that night, that the dark haired man might be the biggest factor. He hadn’t missed college as much as he had missed being with Cas. It scared him a little bit, that he now had someone close enough to him that he could _miss_ them. He’d never had friends like that before.

“I want to buy the tree again,” Castiel said, throwing out a sheet.

Dean snorted as he caught the other end of the sheet. “Are you insane, Dad almost killed you last year.”

“But he didn’t. I think he was grateful,” Castiel said, tucking in a corner. “Dean.” Castiel stopped with the sheet and looked up, waiting for Dean to look at him. “As far as I’m concerned, buying your family a tree is buying _my family_ a tree. It isn’t about your dad still working for Bobby. It isn’t charity.”

Dean stared at Cas for a long moment, taking in the man before him. Castiel hadn’t said it outright, but he had pretty much called his family his own. His own family was gone, and if Dean’s family could help fill that void, then he was happy to help. Family wasn’t a concept the Winchesters took lightly, and he knew Cas wasn’t tossing the term around willy-nilly either.

“We’ll need another cover story.”

Castiel picked up the sheet with a content smile and resumed tucking it in. “I like the one about a baby bunny leading you straight to a helpless, fallen tree in distress.”

Dean chucked a pillow at him as Castiel laughed. It warmed the house the way a furnace never could.

~

“Hey,” Dean called, coming down the stairs. Castiel was sitting in front of the TV in his pajamas eating a bowl of Corn Pops. His hair was even messier than normal, and it was obvious he hadn’t been up long. “You slept in.”

Castiel shrugged. “I slept poorly. Where were you?”

Dean was already dressed for the day. He had hoped Castiel might not realize he was gone. “Running errands for mom. Want to get the tree today?”

“Did we pick a story?” Castiel asked, setting his bowl down and stretching. His shirt rode up high while his bottoms slung low and Dean’s eyes were pulled to it. He wondered, not for the first time, if Castiel needed a size smaller on some of his clothing.

Dean watched as Castiel gathered up his clothes from his suitcase and headed to the bathroom to get ready. “I’m thinking we’ll take the ‘returned because it was too piney’ story and tweak it on the drive.”

The tree they got was another gorgeous piece of spruce. They encountered John as they hauled it in the door. John went red, then slowly returned to a normal hue as Dean and Castiel told their story about how they were walking home when they came upon a woman who had bought a tree, not knowing her husband had also bought one. So she gave it to them for free. John made such a strongly dubious face that Dean was afraid he was about to spend the rest of Christmas in the shed, before he suddenly nodded his approval and walked away.

Castiel sent him a smile and Dean winked back.

That night Castiel insisted on a movie marathon in the basement. They watched a few of the Christmas standards with Sam and switched over to some classic sci-fi B movies when he went upstairs to bed. They’d already watched all of the good Christmas ones by that point anyway. Dean awoke the following morning with a mop of dark hair tickling his nose and a crick in his neck from sleeping sitting up on the couch all night long.

Dean disentangled himself from a grumbling Cas who fell sideways onto the couch. He picked up a pillow from the pile of bed linens that they had never put on the pull out bed and was going to slide it under Cas when he suddenly reached out like an octopus, wrapped his arms around the pillow and sucked it in. Dean tried not to laugh as Cas immediately began to drool on the pillow. He dropped a blanket over his friend and headed to his own bed to sleep a few more hours.

~

Christmas came amongst a blur of video games, snow ball fights, and movie nights, most of which ended with Dean and Cas passing out on each other and not moving until the sun was starting to rise. It felt right, to have Castiel in the house.

He had not planned it with his mom, they had never discussed Castiel’s place in the house, and yet he came up the stairs and into the living room on Christmas morning and immediately spotted a new stocking filled with goodies. It was embroidered with the letter C, same style and pattern that the whole family had on theirs. Dean stumbled a little when he saw it, happily surprised. Castiel hadn’t seen it yet and sank into the arm chair to wait for Dean’s parents to wake up.

The presents under the tree were ravished mercilessly and Castiel was still surprised when he was handed presents from Dean’s parents and Sam. Dean had been hoping to give Cas a present that he didn’t have yet, so he had nothing to give him that morning. He felt bad about it, but if his plans worked out the way he hoped they would, they would more than make up for it.

The morning was winding down and Castiel’s stocking was still hanging on the mantel. Dean’s mom saw him looking and nodded. When he handed it to Castiel, his chin dropped.

“Don’t forget your stocking Cas,” Dean said softly. Castiel took the garment gently, slowed with surprise. His eyes shined wetly as he traced his fingers over the C. For a long moment, Dean thought he had broken his friend.

Then Cas’s arms were wrapped around Dean so quickly, he didn’t even realize he was being hugged at first. He squeezed Cas back tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Dean’s ear. The spot felt warm and tingly.

“You should thank my mom,” Dean urged softly.

Mary was watching them with a small, happy smile. She hugged Castiel back when he came over to her and said gently, “You’re family, after all.”

When Castiel pulled back, his eyes were full of tears begging to be shed and he had to leave the room.

Dean gave him a few minutes before sneaking off to find him downstairs. He was sitting on the couch, staring at his hands and a small piece of paper in his fingers.

“Sorry,” he said when he saw Dean approach. “I was overwhelmed. Gabe dies and your mom, this family, you just make me feel so…”

“I get it man,” Dean said, filling the pause.

“I um,” Castiel said, standing up, “You’re going to refuse, but I uh, I wanted this to be your present from me.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, recognizing the piece of paper as a check. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, is that-“

“Gabriel left me entirely too much money. Money I don’t need, and you do. You can quit-“

“No,” Dean said sharply. “God damn it Cas, no. I can’t-“ Dean made a frustrated sound and ran his fingers threw his hair, gripping at the strands. “I’m not taking your money.” He knew he was being foolish and stubborn and prideful, but there was no way he could accept how much Castiel was offering. It was too big. It meant too much.

Castiel sighed resignedly. “I have nothing else to give you for Christmas you know.”

Dean let out a breath of relief that Castiel wasn’t pushing. “You can buy me dinner when we get back to school.” Castiel smiled and nodded.

They went back upstairs where Castiel went through the contents of his stocking. He seemed pleased that it wasn’t entirely filled with candy, but rather had a few gifts thrown in that Dean felt were entirely out of place in a Christmas stocking. Who wanted highlighters and post-it notes for Christmas? Well, apparently brainiac wanna-be oncologists, that’s who.

It was late the night Castiel had told him that’s what he wanted to do in medical school. Not just any oncology, but pediatric oncology. It was one of those nights where he had been thinking a lot about Gabriel and he happened to be the main factor in his reason for choosing pediatric oncology. It was, after all, a focus not many would have the heart to choose. Gabriel had beat thyroid cancer when he was very young, and it had changed both of them profoundly.

It explained a lot about both of them, and Dean felt another pain in his chest as he watched Castiel pull out a pack of mechanical pencils with glee.

They spent the day playing with their new presents and eating amazing food (with at least four types of pie, naturally). Bobby had come over again for dinner, just to make their extended family complete. They sang carols again, as per tradition, and when the older generation begged off and headed to bed, Dean and Sam immediately turned on Cas and asked him what he was going to sing this time.

“Oh, um…” he responded, thrown at the sudden turn of attention on him.

“Fine, Sammy, hand me that,” Dean said, pointing at the musical numbers book. He flipped through until he found the perfect page and smiled widely. “This one.”

“You’re kidding me,” Castiel said, reading the title. Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “Fine. But you’re my partner again and I’ll just remind you that you asked for this.”

Dean had chosen “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story. And if Castiel thought he was going to regret the choice, going to regret watching him ham it up to the millionth degree, bat his eye lashes, curtsey, exaggerate one specific line about feeling gay and tossing a wink in with it, he was very wrong. Castiel finished the song in a fit of chuckles and a grin that Dean hadn’t seen since before Gabriel passed. How on Earth could he ever regret that?

He grabbed the book and flipped to the next fun thing he could find.

Castiel just laughed when he saw the title. It was “I Just Can’t Wait to be King” from The Lion King.

Dean took the part of Zazu, much to Castiel’s amusement. He had yet to join him in singing outside of the Christmas carols. Sam joined them too, his tender tenor voice singing the chorus from the piano.

Dean didn’t know if it was possible, but he was pretty sure that Christmas was the best yet.

**Saturday, February 12 th 2011**

Dean was huffing hard and still covered in glitter and sweat when he banged open the door to their dorm room at 3:00 a.m. Castiel was startled out of the medical book he’d been poring over. Dean was grinning at him, far too energetic for having just got in from work in the dead of night.

“Get dressed, you’re taking me on that dinner you owe me from Christmas.”

Castiel frowned. “It’s three in the morning.”

“There has to be a bar or a Steak ‘N’ Shake, I don’t fucking care, we’re going out.”

“What in the world has gotten in to you?” Castiel asked, putting down the engraved pen Dean had given him over a year ago. He watched Dean curiously as he stripped out of his clothes (how many times does that make this evening, he wondered) and pulled out some clothes that didn’t smell like sex and booze. Castiel always thought he looked far better when he was in the clothes he loved and felt comfortable in than those ridiculous getups that the club made him wear.

“Well. I’m sure you didn’t notice, but I was being kind of sketchy at Christmas-“

“I remember.”

“Hmm. Well, Dad hooked me up with a friend of his. Missouri is a very persuasive person in Child Services and she may just be psychic or something on top of it because,” Dean said, pulling up his zipper and turning to Cas, “she found Anna.”

Castiel blinked several times. “What?”

“Anna, Cas. Anna. Your sister. We found her,” Dean said. He was beaming. “I’ve got her home phone number. You can call her in the morning.” Cas continued to stare at him in blank shock, unwilling to believe such good news. He had looked for Anna for more hours and more days than he could count, and Dean found her in a few months? “Anna,” Dean said again, with more emphasis. “Cas, you have a sister!”

The air of shock broke like a jolt of thunder. Laughter bubbled up from Castiel’s throat and he was hugging Dean before he was consciously aware of it. This gorgeous, stubborn, _determined_ man, whose heart was surely as beautiful as the soul it nested in, how was Castiel so lucky to have him in his life? He didn’t want to let go.

“You’re welcome,” Dean said, patting his back. “Now. You’re buying me dinner.”

“People will think we’re on a pre-Valentine, post-sex munchies run,” Castiel pointed out, quickly shucking his pajama bottoms to pull up some jeans.

“I don’t care what people think,” Dean replied flatly.

Castiel paused, stared at Dean. He knew Dean meant that and the fact that Dean didn’t care what people would think of them was huge. Dean would deny it, but he does care what people think of him, perhaps even more so than most people, and especially when it came to his sexuality. And as far as Castiel could tell, he hadn’t exactly come to terms with being bisexual yet. He had never seen Dean even hit on a guy, and Dean was a pretty big flirt. In fact, he was fairly certain he was still the only one who Dean had ever told that he was bi.

“Steak ‘N’ Shake then?” Castiel asked, picking up his wallet.

“We could share a shake,” Dean replied with an eyebrow wiggle. “Two straws, one glass.”

Castiel laughed. “You’re a cheap date, Winchester.”

“Only for the right guy,” Dean said with a wink before sliding out the door.

Castiel sighed fondly and shook his head. Dean was shameless.

The milkshakes were good, though they didn’t get just one. In fact, they ended up with four. Dean just had to try the new pie flavors – peach and apple- as well as get his favorite, chocolate cappuccino. Castiel had helped finish the pie ones, but also got his favorite, cookie dough. Neither was in the mood for a burger and fries at 3:00 a.m. anyway.

Castiel slept in a sugar induced hyperactive food coma in his own bunk. He would have given Dean a black eye if they had shared a bed, since the nerves about talking to his sister for the first time in seven years had him tossing and turning.

Castiel got Anna’s adoptive mother Mrs. Milton when he first dialed the number, which he supposed was for the best. He hadn’t thought it out all the way, and talking to Anna first could have startled her. He panicked when he realized he might have to go through them to get to her, that they could decide they didn’t want Anna to know her previous life. She might not even know she was adopted.

His fears, however, were short lived. They were thrilled to hear from Castiel. They had seen Gabriel’s name in the newspaper obituaries and had been thinking about hiring someone to see if he was one of Anna’s long lost family members, and if any others existed.

“I know it’s short notice, but if you’re available today, we could plan a meeting? Are you available around 4 o’clock?” Mrs. Milton asked tentatively.

“Of course, yes,” Castiel responded quickly.

He hung up the phone and met Dean’s gaze. He’d been watching the whole conversation. “I’m going to their place in a few hours,” Castiel explained. Dean grinned. “Oh my god,” Castiel said as it settled in. He fell into the chair behind him. “I’m going to meet my little sister in a few hours.”

Dean went with him, for which Castiel was eternally grateful. It not only calmed his nerves, but Dean was an extremely charismatic person. He was good with parents, good with smoothing conversations. The Milton’s had given them both an odd look or two throughout the introductions, but he supposed that was to be expected. He had to be vetted before they reintroduced him to Anna after all, make sure he was who he said he was and not some psycho looking to hurt her.

Castiel showed them the only picture he had of Anna. She was almost 2 when it was taken, but you couldn’t miss the unmistakable flaming red hair.

Mrs. Milton had hugged him then. “I’ll get Anna.”

When little nine year old Anna bounced down the stairs, Castiel’s heart broke. _Family_. He had family. Not that he wasn’t immensely grateful to Dean’s family for taking him in, but this was flesh and blood family in front of him. The only flesh and blood he had left.

She stopped in front of him and stared.

“Hello,” she said.

Castiel had to swallow before he was capable of speaking. “Hello Anna,” he replied back. “I’m Castiel.”

Anna tilted her head to the side and stared at Castiel intently. Castiel heard Dean make a sound and mumble very quietly behind him, so that he was the only one who heard, “Oh, she’s your sister alright.”

“You’re my brother,” she eventually said.

“I am,” Castiel said, surprised. He looked to Anna’s parents, both of whom shook their heads, equally surprised. “How did you know?”

“Your eyes. I dream about them. Big blue eyes, looking down at me. They make me feel safe.”

Castiel might have heard Dean whisper again, “Me too,” but he likely misheard.

**Saturday, May 28 th 2011**

Dean handed Castiel a can of diet coke and turned to stand by his side, surveying the festivities before them.

It was Anna’s 10th birthday, and her parents had thrown a nice birthday party barbeque. Kids were running around in a yard lit by lanterns and string lights and citronella candles scattered about, the smell of burgers was wafting over to them, and Castiel looked like there was no place on Earth he’d rather be than giving the occasional piggy back ride to his little sister.

Dean was glad he forced the club into giving him the time off. They didn’t like to give Saturdays off. It was the prime night after all, and Dean was one of their top dancers. There was a time when he would have been damn proud of the fact, but he didn’t feel much of anything towards his profession any more. The novelty had worn off after one too many nights of selling his flesh to hungry eyes. But hey, it paid well, and it’s what he was good at. Looking pretty.

“I’m switching majors,” Dean said to Cas, seemingly out of the blue.

“Oh?” Castiel replied, peeling his eyes off of the rugrats in the yard.

“It’s not a big switch,” Dean said, taking a swig of his pop. “Same department anyway, so it won’t set me back by much.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be great at.”

Dean let out a breath of nervous air. That was pretty much exactly what he needed to hear. Castiel had a habit of that. “Child services. I’m going to switch to child services.”

Castiel’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?”

Dean lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Helping you find Anna, hearing about what you and Gabriel went through. Made me wonder how many kids I could help.” Dean looked down at his pop self-consciously. “You know, if they’ll even let a stripper be around kids.”

Castiel stared at him for a long moment. Dean felt a little naked under it and he thought he should start charging Castiel a cover charge. Finally, Castiel said, placing one hand on his arm, “You’re a wonderful man Dean, with a pure heart. And you think far too low of yourself.”

They were interrupted by Anna’s Aunt Linda, handing them two plates topped with juicy sirloin on a thick bun.

“Joe grills the best burgers,” she said. “I know how you boys love your meat.”

Dean blinked several times as she walked away with a knowing smirk.

“Did she just-?” Dean asked.

“Yes, yes she did,” Castiel replied flatly.

Dean looked around the yard. A few eyes darted away from them, eyes accompanied by sly smiles. He was pretty sure, in fact, that this had been happening all night.

“Do they all think that we’re-?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Huh,” Dean said blankly.

It’s far from the first time they’d been mistaken for a couple. He’d told Castiel once that he didn’t care, and it was true. It surprised him that it was true, but it was. When it came to Cas, the rest of the world could just fuck off with whatever they thought of their relationship. It didn’t matter to him.

He was saved from having to make any further comment on the matter by Anna asking Castiel for another piggy back ride. Castiel grinned widely, handed Dean his plate, scooped Anna up and darted across the yard. Dean ate his burger watching them play. For a guy that hadn’t been around kids very much in his entire life, Castiel took to it like a duck to water. Which was great, considering he wanted to work with kids.

Castiel came back for his burger when it was already cold, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He took a big, greasy bite and moaned into it. “Dean,” he said, “These make me very happy. _I_ am very happy.”

“No kidding.”

Castiel’s smile dropped then, just slightly. “I wish Gabe could have met her.”

Given how much of a pain Gabriel had been when he first met him, it was a testament to how much things had changed, how much Castiel’s stories had affected him, and most importantly, how much he cared about Cas, when he responded with the utmost sincerity, “Me too Cas, me too.”

Castiel looked at him with such gratitude and fondness, he thought for one startling moment that he was going to kiss him. Instead, he clicked their pop cans together, raised up to the air and said, “To Gabriel. May he be running up a happy chaos in Heaven.”


	3. Third Year

**September 2011**

Cas spent the summer on campus, taking classes and preparing for his MCAT’s in February. He hadn’t wanted to go back to his big, empty house and as much as he loved Dean’s family, it still felt like intruding to be there for more than a few days in a row. So he called up campus housing and got himself a nice dorm suite for himself over the summer, which he then used as an excuse to get Dean to agree to staying in the nice dorm suite when he returned in the fall, despite the higher costs. The larger room now had full sized beds instead of twins, a fully private bathroom, a small kitchenette area, and a large enough living space to set up their Halo and cheesy movie area, complete with a used sofa Castiel had gotten at a garage sale.

He could have afforded a brand new luxury sofa, hell, he could have bought them a house off campus and furnished the entire thing, but he knew Dean wouldn’t agree to it. So he pretended he wasn’t bursting with money, and things would go along as they normally had. This year should be no different from the last.

Or, at least, that was the theory. It became obvious pretty quickly that something was beginning to change between them.

“Hey! Charlie!” Dean called out from their spot in the coffee shop. “Over here!”

Castiel looked up to see a very pretty redheaded girl walking towards them. His stomach immediately twisted uncomfortably. He smiled politely in greeting, but found himself staring at the exposed brick walls and fancy student art as Charlie and Dean rambled on about classes and professors Castiel didn’t know, trying to get a handle on the unpleasant feeling that got worse every time he looked at Charlie, and Dean smiling at her. He jumped when Dean thumped him on the arm to get his attention and felt silly for it.

“Charlie transferred out of criminal justice into computer programming. We left at the same time.”

“Yeah, my girlfriend was so relieved Dean and I weren’t taking classes together any more. Thought he’d turn me straight with those perfect Captain Kirk good looks and charm,” Charlie said with a wink to Castiel.

Dean laughed, “You do mean Pine’s Kirk, right? I’m twenty times better than Shatner. Right Cas?”

Dean turned to look at him, and he must have seen a physical change to match Castiel’s flood of relief. His goofy grin softened and he tilted his head slightly, a curiosity in his eyes.

“Well. I should uh. Go. Catch ya later homie,” Charlie said with a ridiculous hand wave.

The knowing look that was in Charlie’s eyes as she said goodbye was slowly taking over Dean’s. He sipped his coffee as he stared at Castiel for a long awkward minute. “Were you jealous?” he finally asked.

Castiel scoffed. “You wish.”

“Hmm,” Dean responded, taking another sip. He was smirking and it made Castiel want to knock the damn coffee right out of his hands. “Want to head back, get in some Halo before your next class?”

Blowing some shit up sounded like a perfect way to avoid thinking about whatever the hell had just happened, so he agreed immediately. He was of course 5 minutes late to his next class, and promised himself he’d kick Dean’s ass extra hard next time for distracting him so much.

**Thursday, October 31 st 2011**

This year’s Halloween party was far bigger than it was the previous year, as Chuck had managed to get off-campus housing. Castiel was on the other side of the room talking to Victor and Dean was sipping his third cup of punch spiked with god-knows-what when he realized he’d been staring at Castiel’s ass for at least five minutes. He finished the cup of god-knows-what in one swig. This was scary territory and he wholeheartedly intended to avoid thinking about it.

“Hey,” Dean said loudly. “Who’s up for Cups?” Cups was a drinking game, and a damn good way of getting drunk. Chuck, it turned out, was as good at it as himself, and they matched each other pace for pace all night long in getting completely smashed.

It was around midnight when Castiel came up to him and put his arms around his back to hold him up. He felt tingly where Castiel touched him, but he decided that was the alcohol’s fault.

“C’mon big boy,” Castiel said, “let’s get you back to our place.”

“Heh,” Dean grinned, “You know, Cas, I am a _big boy_.”

“Of course you are,” Castiel said with an odd mix of pacifying and irritation.

Castiel practically carried him back to their room, and Dean was fairly certain he was being a little too touchy feely in the process, but his brain was too fuzzy to process it.

Castiel pushed him down into his bed the second they got back to their room, and Dean followed his instinct, grabbing Cas and pulling him on top of him with the momentum. Castiel gasped above him, quickly pushing himself up onto his arms. Dean’s vision of Cas staring down at him swam back and forth, but he could still tell there was surprise there. Castiel swallowed sharply and jumped off of Dean.

He disappeared into the bathroom, and then their kitchenette before returning with a bottle of water and two aspirin.

“Take these,” Castiel said, placing them on the desk next to Dean’s bed. He moved away and Dean made a swipe for him with a big, clumsy hand. “No, I don’t think so Dean. But I’ll be six feet away in my own bed if you need me.”

Dean’s last conscious thought as Castiel climbed into his own bed was that he was going to burn that other mattress if it was the last thing he did. Later, he’d blame the thought on the alcohol.

~

Dean groaned as he sat up in bed.

“You didn’t take the aspirin,” Cas admonished from the kitchenette. The smell of bacon wafted over and it smelled… well not quite heavenly, but his stomach rumbled nonetheless.

He looked to the side where the bottle of water and two pills silently mocked him. He decided they could still help now and took them quickly.

“Watchcya makin?” Dean asked with a slur. His mouth still felt like cotton, so he took another swig from the water bottle.

“Breakfast,” Castiel replied. “I used to make this for Gabe when he was hung over.”

Castiel banged around in the kitchen for a few more minutes while Dean nursed God’s gift to the hungover- his bottle of water. At least, he was pretty sure it was God’s gift, but after he tasted Castiel’s breakfast sandwich, it may have some competition. He groaned greedily around the flavor of bacon grease. It was far better than the “cure” Dean had forced Cas to try when they were freshman.

“You’re a god send,” Dean muttered.

“I know,” Castiel replied. He turned around and picked up his bag. “I’m going to guess we’re not running at three, since you’ll probably still feel like death warmed over. So I’ll probably stay at the library and try to get some more studying in. I’ll see you when you get out of work though.”

Dean nodded. “M’kay.”

The door shut behind Cas with a click and Dean fell back onto his pillow. He stayed awake long enough to send Castiel his patented dirty joke just before class text. He smiled when Castiel responded back with patented wit and then gave in to his head and fell back asleep.

~

Dean came back extra late that night. Castiel tried not to worry about him when he was gone, but it was getting harder and harder to do. Dean’s job was taking a toll on him, and he wasn’t entirely sure Dean could see it himself. It bothered Castiel how little credit Dean gave himself, but he knew better than to bring it up with him.

That is, until Dean came home at 5:00 a.m. sporting a black eye and clutching his side.

“Dean,” Castiel said with concern, standing up quickly. He rushed over to offer support, but Dean waved him off.

“M’okay,” Dean mumbled, tired. He leaned against the wall.

“You have a black eye and, what, cracked ribs?”

“Bruised. ER says.” Dean explained. He reached for his shirt, taking off the stench of the club. He started to amble towards the bathroom. Castiel swiftly beat him there and turned the hot water on to start warming it up.

“Dean,” Castiel said, stopping him at the doorway. “What happened?”

“Some sleazebag tried to get way too handsy. Wanted to touch my junk.”

Castiel sucked in a breath. “What?”

“It happens, Cas,” Dean said, way too resigned for Castiel’s liking. “I can handle it. Only this guy was way too drunk and way too big and he got a few lucky hits in before security could back me up.” Dean motioned into the bathroom. “Now can I please take a fucking shower? I’ve never felt dirtier in all my life.”

Castiel, still shocked by Dean’s story, quickly stepped back and out of his way. Dean continued to remove his clothes while Castiel tried to process the story. Dean climbed into the shower and moaned as the water hit him.

“You should quit,” Castiel said, hoping Dean wouldn’t dodge him during his obviously much needed shower. “If it’s that bad. Dean, this isn’t good for you.”

“Can’t quit,” Dean said. There was a thud in the shower as Dean fell sideways and hit the wall. There was another relieved moan. It sounded erotic and Castiel tried to ignore the strange feeling it produced in him. “Never gonna quit. Money is too good, we need it too badly.”

“So you’re just going to strip forever?” Castiel asked, incredulous, sinking down to sit on the toilet.

“Until my junk is too shriveled and they kick me out, yeah,” Dean replied. He was moving around now. Castiel heard a shampoo bottle click open.

“You’re much more than a piece of meat you know,” Castiel told him. Dean stopped rubbing his hair for a long moment. Castiel thought he might be watching his same silhouette on the other side of the curtain. Dean didn’t say anything and resumed lathering up his hair.

Castiel sighed. He knew there was nothing more he could say.

He was curled up in Dean’s bed when he got out of the shower, on the verge of sleep. He’s pretty sure Dean at least thought he was asleep, because he stayed propped up on his elbow, staring down at Castiel for a long moment before he sighed and collapsed on the bed.

**December 2011**

Castiel spent a lot of Christmas break studying, and Dean was freaking bored. 

He understood how important the MCAT’s were to Cas, but he also knew Cas had scheduled them in February. It was almost two full months away and Castiel had been studying for it since forever. He could at least take the holidays off and entertain Dean damn it.

The plus side was that Dean was spending a lot more time alone with Sam than he had the previous two Christmases. His baby brother was growing up. He was fairly certain Sam had a massive crush on a girl named Jessica and was too shy to make a move.

He made the mistake of teasing him about that one night, right before dinner. They were playing a game in the basement while the smell of pot roast wafted down. Castiel was upstairs, tucked in next to the fireplace with his books and highlighters and post-its.

“So when are you going to grow a pair and make a move on Jessica?” Dean asked with a sideways smirk.

“When are you going to grow a pair and make a move on Cas?” Sam responded without missing a beat.

“What?” Dean responded. He was so surprised, he forgot to fire back and the head of his clone trooper went flying. “That’s not- We’re not- Why would you say that?!”

Sam shrugged. “You should be grateful Dean. I’m pretty much the only person who doesn’t believe you’re already making like bunnies.”

“What?” Dean responded again, his lips flapping around like an incredulous fish. He knew some people had assumed they were together, but everyone? Sam was exaggerating.

“See, the way I see it, if you were making like bunnies, it would actually burn through some of the sexual tension between you. Others just assume the tension means you’re already doing it.”

“Oh God Sam!” Dean replied, dropping his controller and standing up to run his hands through his hair like he was in physical pain. “Just stop talking!”

Sam smirked at him. Then his smile faded as he considered Dean a moment longer. “Fine,” he eventually said. “Now get your highly in-demand ass over here so I can continue blowing you up.”

Dean let out a breath of air, grateful Sam was willing to let it drop. It was dangerous ground to walk on, and Dean still felt like he didn’t even know what the ground was. So he picked up a controller and joined Sam back on the couch until dinner was called.

Of course at dinner, Dean was still very unsettled. He watched Castiel’s hands butter a roll while his gut did a flip flop or two. He couldn’t handle the twister of emotions and confusing thoughts going through him and was starting to feel defensive about it. So out of nowhere he blurted out, “Castiel let Becky paint his nails.”

Everyone stopped and stared at Dean like he’d grown another head. Castiel recovered first and he calmly resumed spreading butter on his roll. “Are you questioning my manliness, Winchester? Because I seem to recall someone screaming at nearly inhuman decibels when a mouse ran through the room.”

Dean blushed furiously. “You did the hokey pokey at the homecoming party,” he retaliated. “By yourself.”

Castiel set his roll down, his full focus turning to Dean with sparkling blue eyes. “You pet your pillow in your sleep and call it Mr. Wibbles.”

“You burnt the eggs last time you cooked.”

“Low blow, Winchester,” Castiel responded with a growl, but his eyes still conveyed humor. “I only burnt it because I was busy teaching you how to program the DVR for Dr. Sexy.”

“Well,” Dean said with a smirk, “Dr. Sexy is worth the omelet casualty.”

Dean’s dad cleared his throat and it’s only then that Dean realized his family has been watching them like a very fascinating and confusing tennis match.

Dean heard his dad lean in to his mom and whisper, “How long have they been…?”

She smacked his hand.

Dean had never been more grateful for his mother.

~

“I’m buying the tree again,” Castiel told him that night in the basement. They were watching the Garfield Christmas special on NBC and were starting to lean on each other in tiredness. Sam was already passed out on the floor.

“I assumed you were,” Dean replied. “Got a story prepared?”

Castiel smiled brightly. “Of course,” he said. Dean felt a flutter in his gut at Castiel’s mischievous tone. He angled his head to look at him and was caught by the brilliant blue eyes. For one terrifying, thrilling moment, Dean wanted to press his lips into Castiel’s.

“Tomorrow then,” Dean said rather suddenly, standing up. Castiel looked a little flustered himself and just nodded. “Go to bed bitch,” Dean said, toeing his brother in the side.

Sam groaned and mumbled, “Jerk.”

The next morning, he found Sam sleeping on the floor and Castiel sleeping on the couch. He hadn’t pulled it out and set up the bed.

He wondered if they had talked about him after he’d gone to bed. But that would be silly.

He got in the shower and took an extra long one, taking time to grip himself and wank out some of the tension filling his bones. It wasn’t the best orgasm he’d ever had, but it did make him feel a little more relaxed.

That is, until he stepped out straight into Castiel. His eyes dropped straight to Dean’s waist line were a white towel was wrapped around him and you’d think they _hadn’t_ seen each other nearly naked almost every single day. His heart rate spiked until Castiel’s eyes snapped back up to Dean’s face and he gave his head a tiny shake.

“Um,” Castiel said, and stuttering was not something Castiel did often. “Leave any hot water?”

“You probably need a cold one anyway!” Sam hollered from the den.

Castiel blushed. “I’ll be ready in 10,” he said, sliding into the bathroom and shutting the door with a click.

Dean blinked a few times before remembering that he was supposed to be getting dressed too.

~

“You see,” Castiel explained to John, “Dean here is just so pretty that the owner of the lot, she just had to give him a tree for free.”

Dean stared at Castiel like he’d just told the President that the white house would be a lot prettier in pink. He braced himself, waiting for John to burst. His pride was a delicate thing, and Castiel was blatantly waving TNT at it.

John shocked him by merely laughing loud and gloriously, walking away shaking his head.

“Who _are_ you?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel like he hadn’t seen him before.

“Your wet dream,” Castiel replied with a wink before throwing back his head and laughing. Dean watched him walk away, too stunned to move. He wondered if Castiel would ever stop surprising him.

~

Well, he certainly wasn’t done surprising him that Christmas break at least.

Dean awoke Christmas morning to find that Castiel wasn’t in his bed. Which, in itself wasn’t exactly shocking. He knew Castiel didn’t sleep well on the fold-out couch and had been getting up early any morning they didn’t fall asleep on the couch leaning on each other. What was surprising was the soft sounds of the piano and a tenor voice that greeted him as he approached the living room.

“If I loved you  
Time and again  
I would try to say  
All I'd want you to know  
If I loved you  
Words wouldn't come  
In an easy way  
Round in circles I'd go”

Dean was frozen next to the door frame, listening. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment.

“Longing to tell you  
But afraid and shy  
I’d let my golden chances  
Pass me by  
  
Soon you'd leave me,  
Off you would go  
In the mist of day,  
Never, never to know  
How I loved you  
If I loved you.”

When the last notes died off and the room was silent, Dean finally turned the corner.

“Nice song,” Dean said quietly. Castiel looked up to him and smiled softly.

“It is. I found it in the book and hadn’t heard it in a while.”

Dean sat next to him on the bench. “Play another?” he asked.

Castiel flipped the page of the book and started playing the first bars of the next song. It was another Dean didn’t know. The title on the music sheet said it was called “People Will Say We’re in Love” from the musical Oklahoma. Dean barely heard the lyrics, a bunch of things the people in the song were doing that sounded like things couples did, because he was watching Castiel’s fingers dance across the keys.

It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His heart filled with something he dared not name, something that was most directly related to the body heat seeping in through his side.

When Sam crawled down the stairs as the last notes of the song died off, it was like he had broken the shell of peace and perfection that had surrounded Dean and Cas. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for Sam stopping it from going further into the territory he was avoiding, or annoyed. He was definitely glad Sam had not witnessed the moment between them. He was pretty sure he’d regret it if he had.

After the presents had been opened and the dinner and pie had been guzzled down, and the Christmas carols had been sung and then the dirty carols when the parents went to bed, Sam launched without word into the first few bars of a song Dean unfortunately recognized. It was most definitely Sam’s way of saying, “Oh yes, I saw you this morning.” The song was “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid. Dean wanted to smack him, but Castiel just laughed, his nose crinkling in that adorable way of his, so Dean sighed out his acceptance and went with it.

Castiel sang the song _to_ him. Of course, he always does that. But this time, Dean didn’t feel like it was all just fun and games. There was a weight to it this time. He couldn’t tell if Castiel felt the same, he was doing such a good job of having fun with it, until Sam blended “Kiss the Girl” straight into “Can You Feel the Love Tonight.”

Dean _was_ going to reach over and whack him on the head for being a little bitch, but he saw the change on Castiel’s face as he began to sing. The humor was dropped, and something serious filtered in. He made it half way through the song, staring straight at Dean from across the room before he stopped and looked away.

Sam stopped playing.

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered. “Guess I’m just too tired. I think I should head to bed. Go back to your raunchy Christmas carols,” he added a soft smile.

Castiel slunk off downstairs and Dean did whack Sam on the head.

“Stop pushing,” he admonished. “We’re friends Sam. I only date girls.”

Sam snorted so hard he started coughing. Dean frowned.

“Dean,” he said as tears came out of his eyes, “I’ve known you were bi since 3rd grade.”

“You… what?”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and said seriously, “You had a crush on Dr. Daniel Jackson well before Dr. Sexy came along. If this is your big secret, I have to tell you, we know.”

Dean’s frowned deepened. Seriously, why was Sam pushing things he didn’t want to talk about. “You’d better start singing Jingle Blue Balls in the next 2 seconds or I’m going to stick your hand in a bowl of warm water tonight.”

Sam, wisely, dropped the topic.

When Dean finally made his way downstairs, far, far into what is technically the day after Christmas, it was to find Castiel curled up in his bed. Dean knew he’d never get Sam to shut up if he found them like this, but it only briefly flittered through his mind as he crawled in bed with Cas and fell straight asleep.

The pull out sofa bed was never used again.

**Saturday, February 23 rd 2012**

The smell of delicious, perfectly cooked burger greeted Castiel as he walked in the door to their dorm suite. Dean was standing over the stove, rhythmically swaying his hips in circles with the ease and nonchalance that comes with dancing for a living. The only sound to dance to was the sizzling from the pan. Dean had been showing off and perfecting his cooking skills ever since they got the suite, and with it a stove. Castiel was not to be out done, however, and had been showing off the fact that he knew how to make a pie from scratch, a fact Dean had drooled over when he found out.

They had to increase how often they run, but it was totally worth it.

“So?” Dean asked, turning to look at him. “How did it go?”

Castiel had just taken the MCATs. Finally. Now came the long and obnoxious part of waiting for the results. Soon to be followed by the tedious application part, and then the interviews, if he was good enough.

Which, he was.

  
“I won’t know the results for a while, Dean,” Castiel said very seriously. He watched Dean’s face fall for a moment before adding on, “But I totally kicked its ass.”

Dean whooped loudly, making Castiel chuckle.

“Is this a celebration lunch?” Castiel asked, resting a hip on a counter. It was only 2:00 in the afternoon. “We could have gone out.”

Dean flipped the burgers, grease sizzling, and said, “We’re doing that too. But I make damn better burgers than any place out there. Burger in here, beer out there.” Dean looked up from the pan and smiled at him. Dean was so gorgeous then with his flawless smile and lively, thoughtful green yes. Castiel wanted to lean in and kiss him.

He pulled back sharply.

  
“Do I have enough time to shower?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “If you’re quick.”

Castiel stripped quickly and jumped into the shower, not caring what the temperature was. The point wasn’t to get clean, the point wasn’t even to get off or cool down, or anything people usually used showers for. The point was to have some space to freaking breathe.

It was getting harder and harder to deny that he was feeling something for Dean that went beyond friendship, and it was _terrifying_. Castiel had never been interested in dating, and he’d always known he could feel sexual attraction, but that he had to genuinely like, if not love, the person. The fact that he was feeling varying degrees of all these things for Dean was completely knew and completely overwhelming. He supposed most people would be excited by this, but he was anything but. Not only was it scary to be in new territory, a territory he didn’t fully understand, but Dean was his friend. His first true friend in ages, and Dean’s family was his own family. He would never want to compromise that.

He reasoned that the things he was feeling were born out of confusion, out of having a friend that he was so close to. That it was a phase and would pass. But it was getting harder and harder to reason that. And the harder it got to ignore, the more terrified Cas became of what his heart was telling him.

“You okay?” Dean asked him when he got out of the shower. He pretended Dean’s eyes hadn’t dropped to the towel around his waist, that there hadn’t been a little nervous inhale that followed when his eyes snapped back up.

“Yeah,” Castiel replied, moving to his dresser. “Just wanted to wash off the test I guess. Put on something nice if we’re going out. Maybe I’ll pick someone up for a change.”

He had no idea why he said it. He did know he shouldn’t feel guilty for it, and that Dean’s face shouldn’t have lost a bit of its inner light at those words, but both things happened nonetheless. He pulled on his jeans, turning away from Dean.

“Right. Yeah. I could use some action too. Haven’t been with anyone either, not since…” Dean trailed off. His eyes flickered to the side. “Hey look, burgers are ready.”

The burgers were as delicious as ever. Cas groaned into the juicy meat, licking grease off his fingers. When he looked over, Dean was staring at him open mouthed. He clicked it shut.

“You wanna lick?” Castiel asked, waving his fingers in front of Dean. He was teasing, just like they’ve been doing for ages. The way Dean swallowed hard though told him it wasn’t _just like_ they’ve been doing.

“I can lick my own,” Dean said gruffy. Castiel snorted at that line.

“Didn’t know you were as flexible as me,” Castiel replied.

Dean’s jaw hit the table. He shook his head, putting down his half eaten burger and standing up. “C’mon man, I’m ready for that beer.”

It was only 2:30 in the afternoon, but as they’d both only been legally able to drink for a little while (Two birthday parties he was sure they wouldn’t have forgotten if the alcohol hadn’t helped a bit. Damn drinking games and Chuck and his iron stomach.) the novelty of being able to drink whenever they wanted had not worn off yet. He also assumed Dean was trying to get a celebration in before he had to go to work.

Stripping for strangers.

He wasn’t sure when exactly that concept had started to bother him so much.

~

They were at the bar before Dean noticed. He pulled up short at the door to the bar and looked Castiel up and down. “You wore the tie,” he said softly. Castiel had worn not only the tie, but the vest and pant combo that Dean had said made him look sharp at their first concert together. And just like that night, he leaned in and fixed Castiel’s tie. He looked sad as he adjusted the silk fabric slowly. “Don’t worry Cas,” he said softly. “If you’re ready, we’ll find you someone.”

Cas had picked the vest and tie because he knew he looked good in it, and they were celebrating. He had forgotten that the reason Dean had originally wanted him to wear it was so that he would have the same opportunities as Dean at getting lucky that night at the concert. Combined with the stupid words Castiel had uttered earlier, Dean thought he was actually looking to get laid. Castiel’s hand snapped out before he commanded it and latched around Dean’s wrist, his hands still playing with the silk.

“No,” he said softly, catching Dean’s eye. “I’m _not_ ready for _that_. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I don’t want some random person from the bar. Not then, probably not ever, and especially not now.”

Dean searched his eyes for a long moment, another conversation happening between them without words, though this time, the message was a bit more complicated and unclear.

They might have stood like that for ages. They were forced to separate when a big, muscly guy wanted access to the bar door they were standing in front of and coughed pointedly. They separated quickly to let the man pass.

He mumbled, “Get a room,” and for some reason, Castiel thought this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard and started chuckling. The mood between them broke like a soap bubble. 

“C’mon Winchester,” Castiel said, opening the door and motioning Dean in.

“Such a gentleman,” Dean said with a smirk as he proudly waltzed through the door.

The bar was not terribly busy, given that it was pretty early in the day. They didn’t mind though, and in fact, Castiel preferred it that way. They ordered a Sam Adams lager, a splurge for them, as it was usually a bit pricier than the cheapest on tap.

Two beers in, Dean nodded over to the pool table.

“Want me to teach you to shoot some pool, Cas?”

Castiel’s grin spread slowly across his face. “Sure,” he said with a small shrug.

Dean racked up the balls while Castiel grabbed a cue stick. A minute later, Dean was showing him how to hold the cue, how to aim, and where to hit the ball. His first shot went wide, and Dean laughed with mirth.

“Let me help,” he said, putting the cue ball back in place. He lined himself up behind Castiel, placing his left hand over Castiel’s, and same for the right. “Don’t hold your fingers too tight,” he said softly, his lips next to Castiel’s ear. A shiver went down Castiel’s spine. “The wood should just slide through,” Dean added, stepping closer as he moved the cue stick through their combined fingers.

Castiel couldn’t breathe. Worse, he was blushing, because he felt like such a goddamn romance cliché. And worse than that, he had sort of wanted this, and maybe sort of urged it into happening.

They were both lost for a moment, Dean breathing heavy down his neck while Castiel tried to focus his attention on not getting utterly aroused. His heart pounded stronger than ever with those confusing feelings he wasn’t supposed to be letting himself feel.

Eventually, Dean coughed and stepped sharply away. “Take another shot,” he said, his voice a couple octaves lower than usual.

Castiel took a few calming breaths, closed his eyes to center himself. He opened them slowly, lined up his shot, and broke the set with such finesse, 5 balls fell in the pockets. He smirked to himself, called solids, and sunk another two balls before turning to see Dean’s reaction.

His jaw was hanging open. “You, you,” he stuttered, raising his finger to point at Cas, “you hustled me!”

Castiel laughed and shook his head. “Only hustling if we were betting,” he said. “What’s the matter, Winchester? Scared you’ll lose?”

Poking Dean’s sense of competition was always good for some fun. He went from stunned silence to determined in the blink of an eye. “Oh it is _on_ , Novak,” he said, grabbing his own cue stick.

They played six games and drank a few beers, and as the cue ball sunk home for the sixth time, the total score was a tie. Dean, Castiel found out quickly, was his equal in pool, just as much as he was his equal in virtually everything they did. Cas tended to have the edge in Halo and poker, but only barely, and there were plenty of things Dean had the edge in. Strategy games, for one, when he could get Dean to play them. Castiel was damn good at chess, but Dean saw moves in a way he didn’t.

Dean was far more intelligent than he gave himself credit for, and it exasperated Castiel to no end that Dean was always selling himself short.

“Tie breaker?” Castiel asked, passing his cue stick from hand to hand.

Dean started to smile, ready to agree, when he glanced over Castiel’s shoulder to the clock on the wall. “Shit,” he mumbled, turning to put his cue stick away. “I’m going to be late,” he explained. He groaned. “Fuck, they make you clean the bathrooms when you’re late.”

Castiel felt like all the fun had been sucked out of the day, but he nodded anyway, wanting to be supportive. “You have ten minutes,” he said, guessing that Dean was supposed to be in at 7:00. “You’ll make it. Just don’t stop back home first.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sorry Cas, wish we could celebrate all night.”

So did Castiel, but his disappointment was tempered by how much he knew Dean meant it. Dean pulled out his wallet and plopped some bills on the bar to cover their tab.

“Dean, no-“

Dean held up his hand. “My treat. You’ve earned it. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Castiel felt a little lost once Dean was gone. That was starting to happen more often than it should.

He didn’t go back to their dorm right away. He stopped by Chuck and Victor’s place and made them play some cards with him. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts just yet, and there was no more big test to be studying for. He’d earned the night off.

Dean crawled in to bed with him sometime well past midnight and something about his world settled back into place.

That is until the next morning when he awoke both hard and aroused. Of course, waking up hard was no big deal, as that was part of the natural biological functions of a man when sleeping. The arousal, however, was completely unexpected. He turned uncomfortably in bed, hoping it would pass. He counted 26 freckles on Dean’s face before he gave up. Dean’s eyes were twitching with REM sleep, so he hoped he could crawl over Dean carefully and make his way straight for the shower without being noticed.

When the cold water didn’t calm his nerves -nor his arousal- he switched the tap back to warm and wrapped his fingers around himself. He groaned low and hard at the relief his hand provided. As he came thick and pulsing, trying not to picture green eyes staring into his soul, he had the sinking feeling that this phase was not going to pass. He had feelings for Dean that he knew he could never act on. It was a fact he’d just have to deal with.

**Tuesday, April 10 th 2012**

Dean was finishing lacing up his tennis shoes when he heard Cas shut off the water to his shower. He pointedly did not look up as Cas made his way to his dresser.

“Where are you going?” Castiel asked. “You don’t have class till 2:00. I’m not used to seeing you awake at this _ungodly_ hour of ten a.m.”

Dean shrugged as Castiel zipped up his pants. “Figured I’d go for a run.”

Castiel turned and looked at him like he’d grown two heads. Cas didn’t have a shirt on yet, and Dean cursed his bisexuality for thinking he had the most gorgeous chest he’d ever seen. Toned and slim and freaking perfect.

“Oh, okay,” Castiel said when he’d gotten over his surprise. “That’s fine, I’ll go when you’re in class then.”

“You think I’m going to let you run by yourself where any random stranger could pick you up and have their way with you?” Dean asked with a lopsided smirk. Castiel raised an amused eyebrow. “You need a big, strapping man like me to keep you safe.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “My hero,” he said, turning for his shirt. “Though I do appreciate a big, strapping man.” As he pulled his shirt on, his pants slung low, as they always have. Only Dean didn’t always have an urge to reach out and claim his hips in a variety of sinfully delicious manners.

Dean shook his head and reached for his keys.

“Right. So um. Have fun. In class,” Dean said. He bit his cursed tongue.

Castiel looked at him again, his eyes trailing quickly, almost imperceptibly, up and down Dean’s body. Dean felt his skin break out in goose bumps. “Sure. Enjoy your run,” Castiel said. There was something curious in his voice. There was a time when everything between them was simple and straightforward, where they could communicate with a glance alone. He’s not sure where those times have gone.

As he set out for his normal path around campus, the tension in his bones seemed to seep out. He’d felt like a set mouse trap ready to be sprung for a long time now. He wasn’t sure if the tension was sexual or his fear of ruining everything with his best friend with an ill-timed boner, but running seemed to help better than trying to wank it out.

He could no longer deny that he was attracted to Castiel, but he knew he could never act on it. Not only could he never risk their friendship like that, but Castiel was different when it came to relationships and sex. He simply wasn’t interested. And if he had to be in love for things to happen, in love _with Dean_ , then nothing was ever going to happen. Dean didn’t even know how to be with a guy and he wasn’t going to let Castiel’s firsts be with someone so ill-equipped. Castiel, as far as Dean was concerned, was not even an option, even if he did want to risk their friendship.

It was such a ridiculous notion that he just kept shaking his head at his own silliness for even thinking about it.

He ran past the animal hospital and shelter and stopped. The day he tripped over their fondly named “Trippy” had been one of his more memorable experiences from his freshman year. His chest warmed when he thought about how Castiel had taken care of him that night.

“S’cuse me,” Dean said, walking in to the shelter. “I dropped off a stray here a couple years ago. I was wondering if you could tell me if he got adopted?”

“I don’t exactly have the time to satisfy your idle curiosities,” the woman behind the counter said, not even looking up.

“Please?” Dean said sweetly, leaning slightly over the counter. “It would mean the world to me.” He added his famous Winchester smile, which almost never failed to warm someone over.

She actually snorted. “Flirtation is not going to work.”

Dean sighed. He could give up and walk away, but a part of him really needed to know what had happened to Trippy. He decided the truth, or a measure of it, might work better.

“The thing is,” he glanced at her name tag, “Robin. This dog, he may be responsible for me finding the love of my life. The dog tripped me-“

He stopped because the girl’s eyes had gone wide. “Trippy?” she asked. “You’re one of the boys that brought in Trippy?” She started typing furiously at her keyboard.

“You… know us?” Dean asked, completely taken back.

“Oh yeah, we still talk about the two gorgeous men that brought in Trippy,” she replied. “There,” she said, stabbing her monitor with a finger. “I thought so. He was adopted by a sweet family in the suburbs. The man is a doctor, the woman a teacher. I’m sure he’s doing great.”

Dean nodded, still surprised at the strange turn of attitude. “Great,” he finally said. “That’s great.”

“So you and the guy you were in with, you’re together?” she asked with glee. “You said love of your life, right?”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dean answered not so smoothly.

She squeed. “I win ten bucks!” Before Dean could ask (and he wasn’t sure he wanted to) she was peeling back into the shelter, half screaming, “Hey Pam! Guess what? One of the boys who brought in Trippy was here. We were right!”

“No way!” came a voice from the back. “Was it the dark haired God or-“

Dean didn’t hear the rest because he was busy shutting the door behind him as quick as possible.

“Fuck running, I need a beer,” he mumbled to himself. Knowing it was far too early for any liquor establishments to be open, he sighed and continued running.

~

“Damn it!” Cas cursed, coming in the door. He had his phone in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. Dean raised an eyebrow from his position on the couch, his textbook forgotten. Castiel dropped his phone and slip of paper angrily on his desk and jerked his bag over his shoulder and onto the ground. “I’m going to fail public speaking.”

“Hey,” Dean said, standing up from the couch, worried about Castiel’s tone. “Why do you say that?”

“I just got my first grade,” Castiel growled and frustratingly grabbed at his hair. “Called the professor to confirm it. I hate this class. There was a reason I put it off.”

“How many speeches do you have left?” Dean asked.

“Just three,” Castiel explained. “Damn it!” Castiel exclaimed suddenly, turning around to kick a chair. “This could seriously damage my med school prospects!”

“Hey,” Dean said, coming into Castiel’s personal space and squeezing his arms. “Calm down, Cas. Those schools are going to be lining up to get you.” Castiel did not look convinced, however. Dean sighed. “How can I help?”

Castiel laughed miserably. “I don’t think public speaking is something where you can run flash cards with me.”

“No, but I can help you write the speech, can’t I? And I can be your audience while you practice,” Dean said, rubbing Castiel’s arms soothingly. His nerves seemed to be calming down a bit, but he didn’t seem assured yet. So he grinned as he said, “And if you get an A in the class, I’ll give you a lap dance.”

Castiel huffed a laugh at that, some humor returning to his eyes. “Deal,” he said, shaking his head slightly in disbelieve. “You know, I really need that run now.”

~

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Castiel reminded Dean ten minutes later, when he had already started panting. He had ran for a long time that morning, and his muscles hadn’t recovered yet. Castiel was looking at Dean with something akin to concern laced with curiosity. Like Dean was a very strange puzzle. Of course, he’d looked at Dean that way since the day they met.

“Told you,” Dean wheezed, “Gotta keep you safe.”

Castiel huffed. “I’m pretty sure if anyone has been a guardian angel on these runs, it’s me.”

Dean looked sideways at Cas, a slow, sincere smile spreading across his lips. Guardian angel. He liked the sound of that.

“Whatever you say, Angel,” Dean said. He winked at Castiel when he looked at him with surprise at the pet name, but instead of his usual witty retorts, Castiel merely blushed. Dean was beginning to wonder if they should stop completely with the play flirting, but that would mean admitting something had changed, and they were _both_ too stubborn for that.

Running was not nearly as relaxing with Castiel next to him. Dean could practically feel the body heat radiating off of the man next to him, and if he glanced over, he was presented with the delectable and distracting sight of Castiel working his toned body while sweat slicked his skin. And he knew it was batshit crazy, but he would swear Castiel smelled like heaven when he was working out.

As he watched Castiel stretch out, long, toned limbs stretching much further than Dean was capable, he realized he might be a little screwed.

**Friday June 1 st 2012**

Castiel had never been more grateful that speeches were graded immediately after delivering them. He had, clenched in his fist, a piece of paper with the proof that he had aced his final speech, and therefore, the class. He never would have been able to get that A on his own, and he wasn’t too prideful to admit it. Dean had been essential in his support, in helping him practice and giving him tips. He didn’t believe he was owed any kind of reward but that it was Dean who deserved one for helping him.

Nevertheless, it was time for Dean to give him his prize.

He walked into their dorm room and Dean’s head snapped up.

“Well?” he asked, coming over.

Castiel let the grin take over slowly, letting Dean worry for just a second.

“Aced it,” he finally said, handing him the grade slip. Dean’s sigh of relief was stronger than his own had been. “Now,” Castiel said, dropping his bag by the door, “I do believe I was promised a reward?”

“Do you still want that?” Dean asked. He bit his lip. Castiel felt a zip of electricity go down his spine at the sight of those perfectly rounded teeth sink into the tender pink flesh of Dean’s lips.

It was an out. He could decide Dean had been joking about his reward, and they could go grab some beers instead, play a round of pool. It was probably the logical decision to make, the safe one. But staring at Dean’s bitten lip and his warm, tender eyes, Castiel wanted to be risky. His heart was already speeding up as adrenaline pumped in and he nodded his affirmation.

“Sit on the couch, Angel,” Dean commanded him, his voice a little deeper, rougher.

As Castiel moved to sit on the couch, the adrenaline was being joined by a wash of emotions and endorphins that quickly overtook him. There was the thrill of anticipation, but there was also sheer terror. Some part of his brain was rapid firing on disbelief that this was actually happening. He was resolutely not thinking about how this could go, but his bones were also singing in nervous energy.

Dean had walked over to his laptop while Castiel sat down and pressed play. The tender lyrics of “Cherry Pie” filled the room and Castiel laughed the sort of frantic laugh only those quietly losing their mind were capable of.

Dean sauntered back across the room with a glint in his eyes and a sway to his hips. He waited until he was standing at Castiel’s feet to reach for the top most button of his shirt –no, that was _Castiel’s_ shirt, as Dean certainly did not own a single button down at college- and he slowly slid the plastic piece out of the hole. He rocked his hips slowly, much more seductively than the tempo the music was trying to set. It was the most erotic thing Castiel had witnessed in his entire life.

Dean only had four buttons undone and Castiel could already feel his heart pounding frantically in his chest. His mouth was dry and he nervously licked his lips. He saw Dean’s eyes catch the movement, and he saw the way Dean’s eyes dilated. Then he realized his eyes were locked with Dean’s instead of watching the slow, torturous reveal of skin before him.

Oh dear god help me, Castiel thought madly. Dean’s shirt was on the floor and naked, perfect chest was inches away from him. Castiel was so busy soaking in the torso before him that he almost missed Dean reaching for his belt. He shifted on the couch, uncomfortable with how hard and aroused he was getting by this display. Or was it a seduction? Whatever it was, it was riding the edge of thrilling into being just too much.

The belt slid out if the loops slowly and Castiel was entranced by the sway of the hips that the belt was sliding around. The button on Dean’s pants popped quickly, but the zipper slid down so slowly he swore he could hear each jagged tooth being pulled apart. It echoed in his ears, the music completely forgotten.

He barely held himself back from giving in and gripping himself through his jeans when Dean slowly slid his pants down his gorgeous, toned bowlegs.

Dean was wearing nothing but a G-string now, and his erection was hard and evident inside its small confines.

Dean carefully placed his knees on either side of Castiel’s lap, settling in and gyrating softly. Castiel couldn’t help himself then. They weren’t in the club, there were no rules here. His hands came up and found Dean’s hips, caressing in a soft touch. He felt Dean shiver and looked up to find Dean totally and completely lost in the moment. His eyes were shut, his lips parted slightly, and his head was thrown back in abandon. He was _perfect._

Castiel trailed his fingers up Dean’s sides, soft and delicate while Dean’s breathing deepened. He got a bit more enthusiastic with his motions, and that’s when their erections brushed each other.

The effect was instantaneous. Castiel sucked in a breath and held it, his hands immediately freezing in place. Dean halted completely, instantly snapping out of the state he had been in. The next second, he was scrambling out of Castiel’s lap and reaching for his shirt. Castiel’s shirt, technically.

“Right, um. Yeah. Good job, Cas, with the grade and all,” Dean said, scrambling for his pants next. “I’m just. I’m um. Victor. Wanted help. With stuff.”

Dean had gotten dressed and was searching for his keys and Castiel had barely processed that everything had _stopped_.

“Be back later,” Dean mumbled, scooting out the door.

Castiel stared blankly at it for a long time. He was no longer remotely aroused. All he felt was embarrassment and foolishness. Mortified seemed an accurate descriptor.

“Fuck,” Castiel said to himself, throwing his head backwards into the couch cushions. That was, as far as he was concerned, the stupidest, most ill-considered thing he had ever done.

He only hoped they could pretend it never happened and just go back to being the friends they were.

Friends that shared a bed and made each other’s favorite foods, and fell asleep on each other when watching movies together. Friends that did everything together, friends that went to bars and restaurants alone, friends who sometimes had entire conversations with their eyes. Friends whose entire worlds and routines and schedules revolved around the other.

“FUCK.”


	4. Fourth Year

**September 2012**

Dean didn’t see much more of Castiel before summer break started, and then he didn’t see much of Castiel during it either. He took up a full-time summer job with the landscaping company just to keep his mind occupied.

He spent most of his summer berating himself for being a freaking idiot. What had he been thinking when he offered that lap dance to Castiel? That it would be fun? That it would be some casual, friendly strip tease? No, it was stupid because he knew it couldn’t be like that, he knew it would mean more, and he let that part of his brain (both the upstairs and the downstairs one) cloud his judgment and did it anyway.

Then he felt his erection brush what had to be Castiel’s and he just couldn’t handle it. Wanting Castiel was one thing, something he could deal with. Knowing Castiel didn’t just occasionally look at him like there might be more there, but that he fully wanted Dean as well? That was terrifying. It was scary enough, knowing that Castiel didn’t get worked up over nothing, that his erection meant so much more than youthful hormones, but it was also the first erection Dean had ever brushed up against like that. G-string and jeans be damned, it was penis to penis, and despite Sam’s correct assertion that he’d been bi for quite a long time, it took him a while to admit that to himself. He’d only been fully accepting of it for a short while when he’d met Cas. So having another man’s arousal press against his had shocked him.

He wished that he’d never fled though. They never talked about that incident, but he can’t imagine how it must have felt to be in the middle of something so intense and have half of the party suddenly and literally run out the door. Castiel deserved so much more than the emotionally stunted, inconsiderate mess of a man Dean was.

That didn’t stop him from replaying the scene over and over again in his head until he was forced to eventually admit that there wasn’t a single part of him that regretted doing it. He regretted leaving, he regretted the change that came between them, the distance, he regretted not knowing how much he may have screwed things up with one of the best people he’d ever known, but when he was being purely selfish, he enjoyed every damn minute of stripping for Cas. And Castiel’s erection meant he also had to have enjoyed it, at least to some degree.

He only wished he knew what to do now. He was pretty sure clinging to his landscaping job to avoid dealing with it wasn’t the right approach.

~

Castiel didn’t see much of Dean after the strip tease debacle. Summer break started the following week, and what time they did spend together –at Anna’s yearly birthday bash for example, where they were given even stranger looks than the first one- the lap dance incident was never brought up.

It was a mistake, Castiel was certain, perhaps one of the biggest of his life. Even if he had come to terms fully with what he was feeling, which he hadn’t, Dean certainly had never come to terms with his. Castiel knew he hadn’t fully embraced his being bisexual, and Dean fleeing like he’d been touched by acid was proof of that.

Castiel took a heavy course load that summer, as heavy as he could given the limited options in summer classes, just to keep himself busy. Just to give his mind something else to do. He still talked to Dean, they still texted, but it lacked something and he never went to visit. Dean had taken up a landscaping job and was busy working every weekend. Castiel spent the first half of the summer wondering if Dean took the job to avoid him, and then realized that he had pretty much done the same thing by loading up on classes.

The more he thought about that night though, the more his thoughts changed and slipped away from mortal embarrassment. He now admitted to himself that it had been something that he wanted, that the arousal was welcomed, and that maybe the mistake was in letting the opportunity pass so easily.

He just didn’t know what to do about that _now_.

~

The school year started off a bit rocky. The air between him and Castiel was thick, and every day was like wading through a swamp of the unknown. They both tried so damn hard to keep acting like everything was normal, but it wasn’t working. Dean kept making burgers as a treat for Castiel, and Castiel was still making him pies on a regular basis. He still sent Castiel jokes before his classes, but had backed off the overly sexual ones. Castiel still kicked his ass regularly in Halo (not that Dean would admit it) and they still watched cheesy movies together and hung out with Chuck and everyone on occasion. They stopped falling asleep on each other afterward, but they still shared a bed. Like everything else, they didn’t talk about it. It just wasn’t something to be debated about. It was what it was and always would be.

To top it all off, he was having a hell of a time with his American History 101 course. Castiel wasn’t the only one who put off some core classes as long as possible. Dean had never been a fan of history. It was old, it was boring. Who cared? Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning behind studying history, doomed to repeat mistakes and all that, he just fell asleep every time he tried to listen.

“Dean,” Castiel sighed exasperatedly over his burger one night. “I could help you, you know. History doesn’t have to be boring.”

Dean snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s mandatory.”

“It really isn’t though. Where are you at right now?”

“Civil war. A bunch of Americans tried to kill each other. The end. Why do I need to know more than that?”

Castiel put his burger down and thought for a minute. “In 1861, General Michael Archer found himself fighting for the right for every American to be free. An entire population was under constant persecution just for daring to be different.” Castiel paused and caught Dean’s eye. “Sound familiar? Anyway, he fought because he believed it was worth fighting for. But his brother, Lucent, found himself in Alabama when the war started and took the other side.”

Castiel continued his story about two brothers fighting each other, trying to kill each other, when they still loved each other so much. He spoke of how it tore the family apart. He spoke of the horrors of the battle field, advances in explosive weaponry making it not only a war tearing apart a country and it’s families, but also one of the bloodiest of all time, with enough gore to make even General Michael Archer a little sick.

When he was done, Dean hadn’t even realized his burger was cold.

“Now what year did the war start?” Castiel asked after a pause.

“1861,” Dean replied without thought. A slow grin spread across his face. “You freaking wizard,” he said with awe. Castiel had made history interesting. He made it a story, about real people with real problems, not just facts and names.

“Let me help you with history,” Castiel repeated.

Dean shook his head, however. “You’ve got enough on your plate man. You’re taking more credit hours than any sane person should, and you’ve got like a million interviews scheduled with the med schools. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Castiel frowned. “You’re such a stubborn mule when you want to be,” he said. Dean frowned back. “I may be busy, but I can make time for you, Dean. I always will.” That made Dean pause. Castiel was far, far too good for him. As he sat there gazing into nothing, suddenly a little torn, suddenly fighting some of the feelings he’d done such a good job of repressing thus far, a sneaky grin worked its way across Castiel’s lips. “Maybe, you know,” Castiel started slowly, “if you ace your first test, I can return the favor you paid me last year.”

Dean’s eyes snapped back into focus and straight into Castiel, dilating so fast that he almost couldn’t see for a moment. He searched Castiel’s eyes for any sign that they weren’t thinking of the same thing, that maybe he misunderstood, or that Castiel would take it back in the next second, but the look of sheer determination Castiel was sending him said it all.

Dean had to swallow hard, and even then his response came out a few octaves too deep. “Deal.”

~

Dean was fairly certain he got the good end of that deal too. In every way. Not only was the incentive freaking worth any kind of hell he’d have to go through to get it, but “hell” is the last word he would use to describe getting to listen to Castiel’s gravelly voice come up with stories to convey history in a fun way. He was having a good time, _and_ there was a very attractive light at the end of the tunnel. He was fairly confident Castiel didn’t have it quite as sweet when he’d been helping him with speech.

It was like their entire world had come to revolve around this class and him getting that A. Everything else got set aside, all of the awkwardness was gone, all of the palpable energy shifted, when Castiel had promised him a reciprocating reward. It was like they were suddenly on the same page again, and every silent conversation they had from then on proved it.

He tried not to run back to the dorm room when he got his test back with an A circled at the top, he really did. He just failed miserably.

Castiel was pacing in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans and the vest-shirt-tie combo Dean loves so much, when he banged open the door.

“Tell me you got a fucking A,” Castiel growled at him.

Dean turned the paper around and held it up with a shit eating grin.

Castiel’s smile turned feral, and before Dean could process it, Castiel had grabbed him by his shirt and thrown him onto the couch. He slammed the door shut and turned the lock before hitting play on Dean’s laptop, the chords of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” filling the air.

God, if there was anything hotter than Castiel in that tie, it was watching him pull it off. Castiel was a little less skilled with moving his hips while working at the buttons on his vest than Dean with his practiced years of it, but it mattered little to Dean. He sat up on the couch, wanting so desperately to reach forward and just rip the damn things off. He didn’t though, and watching Castiel’s long, slim fingers work at each button did things to his nether regions that had him achingly hard rather embarrassingly fast.

He couldn’t hold back completely though, and when the vest hit the ground and Castiel started working on the shirt’s buttons, his hands reached for Castiel’s hips and gripped them tight. Castiel’s eyes snapped to his sharply, with so much fire behind them that Dean was surprised they were still blue.

Dean moved Castiel’s hips with the rhythm of the music, helping him sway, while Castiel worked a bit more quickly at the buttons on his shirt. He was panting above Dean, and the bulge at Dean’s eye level told him Castiel was in just as bad a state as he was.

“Fuck,” Dean mumbled when the shirt was finally tossed to the ground and perfectly toned flesh was before him. Castiel’s hip bones peeked out about his jeans, and Dean whined at the sight of them.

Castiel popped the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down as seductively as any strip tease Dean had ever witnessed, even with Dean’s arms blocking some of his movement. He was forced to move his hands when Castiel pushed the denim down and let the pants fall to the floor.

Castiel was fucking wearing _his_ fucking G-string.

He did moan then, loud and wantonly.

Castiel pushed on his shoulders, pushing him backwards to give himself enough room to straddle Dean. His heart rate skyrocketed as Castiel thrust himself at Dean, back and forth, as the song died out. Auto play kicked in, and as a slower song started up, Castiel’s movements slowed until the only moment was his chest as it pounded up and down with his panting breaths. Dean could feel the movement of air across his face, Castiel was leaning so close, his own head tipped back to meet him.

“Cas,” Dean said softly, breathless himself. His soft lips were inches away and he didn’t think he could resist them any longer. “If we cross this line, there’s no going back.”

“I think we crossed this line the moment we met,” Castiel replied sincerely.

Then there were warm lips pressed to his own and Dean’s fairly certain his heart stopped beating. He surged into the kiss, taking the pressure of Castiel’s lips like a drowning man gasping for air. He had never needed anything in his life like he’d needed this.

Castiel’s fingers curled tight around his shoulder while he tentatively opened his mouth for Dean. When Dean flicked his tongue inside, the sound Castiel let out was better than any music he’d ever heard. The next few moments were made for kissing Castiel, and nothing else existed in the entire universe. As Castiel melted into the kiss, one of his hands worked from Dean’s shoulder to his hair and Dean had never found fingers caressing his scalp more erotic.

When the simmer between them became a boil, Dean gripped Cas’s hips and shifted. Castiel got the message and shifted with him, until he was lying down on the couch, Dean crawling above him. Dean paused to rip his shirt over his head before returning to the beautiful man before him.

Castiel’s face conveyed sheer wonder and amazement, need and reverence. His own couldn’t have been any different.

“Cas,” he whispered again, in awe that he could have this. Castiel stared at him, panting hard, and, Dean slowly realized, trembling. Cas was shaking like a category 1 earthquake right below him. “Hey,” he said, touching his forehead to Castiel’s, “you okay? Do we need to stop?”

Castiel’s lips quirked up as he said softly, “Don’t you dare.” Then two fingers were touching his cheek so reverently, Dean had to briefly close his eyes to it. “Just overwhelmed. But don’t you dare stop.”

He searched Castiel’s eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but Castiel met his gaze in full, and after a moment, Cas nodded slow and sure. The shaking had stopped.

He bent down and pressed their lips together once more, while Castiel’s beautiful, eager fingers danced across his back and in his hair. They explored his entire backside before they slid hesitantly to cup his butt cheeks. “Mmmm,” Dean mumbled, wiggling his hips in Castiel’s hands.

Dean bent up enough to snake a hand between them and ghost it across Castiel’s chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into Castiel’s lips before reclaiming them. When his hand finally reached Castiel’s hard length, barely contained in the G-string and cupped it, Castiel gasped hard, his back arched completely off the couch. His mouth dropped as his eyes widened, glazed over.

My _god_ , he was so sensitive. Dean groaned at the wash of arousal coursing through him. Between Castiel’s responsiveness and his own newness to the experience, he had to plant his forehead in the arm of the couch next to Castiel’s head for a moment and take a deep breath.

“Dean,” Castiel growled at him, his fingers slipping up to the waist band of Dean’s jeans, just above his ass.

Dean didn’t want to take his hand off of Castiel, but he got the message and made a slight detour. He popped the button open on his jeans and Castiel’s hand eagerly slid into the fabric, pushing them down as his perfect fucking fingers dug into the flesh of his ass. Dean groaned as Castiel’s lips were crushed into his and all trace of hesitancy was gone as Castiel sucked hard at his tongue.

While Castiel continued to grope his butt cheeks, Dean moved his hand on Castiel’s bulge, giving him a hard squeeze and small stroke. The small movements were still enough to have Castiel gently gasping between them into the kiss.

When he finally slid his hand around the skimpy fabric to bring skin to skin, Castiel’s fingers dug so hard into his ass that he was positive there would be hand prints there. He was oddly thrilled at the notion.

Castiel let Dean work him over, sliding up and down the rigid length, teasing at the head and thumbing at the slit, until Castiel was panting too hard into his mouth to keep their lips locked together any longer. Instead, he whispered, “Want to feel you, Dean.”

Though his jeans had been unbuckled and the back side had been slid down, his front side was mostly still covered in one layer of denim and one layer of cotton. Dean took his hand off Cas to work his pants and boxers down enough to free his erection, and then took both of their lengths in hand together.

“Shit shit shit,” Castiel cursed, biting his lips while he tried to hold back writhing completely beneath Dean. “Oh my god.”

Dean smiled, leaning down to up the ante, and sucked at the junction of Castiel’s collar bone and his neck. He was rewarded with a long, squealing exhale of his name. Castiel thrust roughly upwards and Dean groaned back, still amazed that this was Castiel beneath him, and Castiel thrusting his cock against his own.

He continued to lick at Castiel’s neck and shoulders while stroking them together, though their cocks were almost a secondary thought. The skin before his eyes and tongue, the sounds he was drawing out of Castiel, the pressure of Castiel’s fingers at his hips and butt, had him completely enraptured. He wanted to discover just how many pretty little sounds Castiel could make.

So he was nearly caught off guard when he realized he was nearly on the brink of orgasm.

“Cas,” he mumbled, voice completely wrecked, “I’m gonna-“

“Me too,” Castiel mumbled back. In fact, he beat Dean there, arching completely off the couch with a soundless scream, sinking his nails into Dean’s backside as long stripes of come painting his chest. It was obviously one of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever experienced, and Dean knew his was going to be no different. He bit Castiel’s shoulder with a groan, shuddering as his own cock twitched and added to the splatters of come covering Castiel.

He collapsed on Castiel, uncaring as come was smeared between them. Soft fingers began tracing patterns in his back and he wondered if this was what Heaven was like.

~

Dean didn’t move for a long time and Castiel wasn’t inclined to make him. He could feel come cooling and drying like cement between them, but he honestly couldn’t have cared less if he tried. He could feel Dean’s heart beat slowing between them, feel his breath ghosting across his neck, and if he could get away with never moving again, he would.

If there was ever proof to the validity of his sexuality, this was it. He’d never been interested in sex, he’d never been interested in dating, but as Dean sighed contentedly, he knew without a doubt that he loved the man currently twisting lazy fingers in his hair, and he knew without a doubt that he wanted to know him as intimately as he possibly could, for as long as he could, and as much as he could. His body needed Dean as much as his heart did.

They did eventually shower, nice and slowly, exchanging long and lazy, passionate kisses together. They couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, now that the dam had broken. Eventually they broke apart long enough to get some dinner, and then Dean suggested a movie. Naturally, they barely watched the movie. They were hardly aware of anything outside each other. It was completely new and completely scary for Castiel, to be this _deep_ into someone else, where time and heaven stood still. He’d even forgotten to worry about his med school interviews coming up.

It felt completely right.

“This is okay, right?” Dean had asked him. “Us doing this? You’re not freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Castiel reassured him. “This is more than okay, Dean. Why? Are you freaking out?” He pulled back a little, worry creeping in.

“No, no,” Dean said, pulling him back in and pressing another kiss to his lips. “I should be, but I’m not. This feels right.”

They didn’t talk again for a long time.

They crawled into bed late, as a soft rain began to patter against the windows, and for the first time, shared the space as lovers instead of friends.

It was one of the most perfect things Castiel had ever experienced, laying down with Dean, feeling a strong, secure arm wrap around him. He wondered if it could get any better.

He found out a few hours later that yes, yes it could.

He had awoken suddenly to a bolt of thunder. Only to discover that another thing would have awoken him eventually.

Dean was pressed against his back, kissing his neck deeply, rubbing his leg up and down Castiel’s own, thrusting ever so gently at his back side, and, most notably, running his hand under the band of his pajama bottoms. Dean’s other arm wrapped under Castiel to press a hand flat to his chest, holding him close.

Castiel didn’t even realize he was hard until Dean snuck under his boxers and wrapped his fist around him. He threw back his head onto Dean’s shoulder and moaned, long and hard at the surprise, intense eroticism. Though they had shared a bed plenty of times, it had never been sexual. He had barely even wrapped his mind around him and Dean finally being _him and Dean_.

“Shhhh,” Dean whispered, rubbing his thumb over the slit of Castiel’s penis. “I got you.”

Castiel shivered at the words, glad Dean was holding him so tightly and so close.

He rocked gently with Dean’s motions, throwing his own unpinned arm back and over Dean to help hold Dean to his own body as he let Dean take complete control and work him over. 

Dean played with him gently and thoroughly. It wasn’t about getting Castiel off as fast as possible, it was about worshipping him and his body. It was about pouring love through every action. His hand didn’t just pump at his shaft, it glided carefully, and took many pauses to thumb his slit or rub at the glands. He slid down so far he cupped Castiel’s balls and massaged them gently. He slid beyond, as far as the position would let him, to tease at the tender and intimate flesh between Castiel’s legs. It sparked a need Castiel had never had before, a spark that caught like fire for something that he knew he was not actually ready for. Not when every fiber of his being was being overwhelmed with simple, gentle touches.

Dean slid back up from far between his legs and developed a languid pace. He peppered kisses across his back and neck, sensitive areas no one had explored before, while the hand on his chest stroked gently, rubbing his nipples as his hand played along Castiel’s flushed skin. Castiel had never realized his nipples were sensitive until Dean had toyed with them.

Castiel was trembling again, his whole body alight with pleasure and attention, and it was a repeat of earlier, with too much feeling to focus on all at once. He rubbed backwards into Dean and groaned at the pressure of Dean’s cock pressed against his backside.

“Dean,” he growled into the dark, breaking the silence.

Suddenly it wasn’t fair that Dean had had the controller this whole time. He wanted to be first player for a while.

He rolled over and Dean let him. As a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, Castiel could see Dean’s eyes, trusting and willing, waiting to see what Castiel wanted to do. Castiel pushed gently at Dean’s shoulder and he went easily, lying back on the bed as Castiel settled his weight on his knees between Dean’s legs. He leaned down carefully to press his lips to Dean, licking into his mouth softly while the hand not bracing his weight slid into Dean’s boxers. 

Dean whimpered into the kiss when Castiel’s hand met his length for the first time.

Dean’s hands rested lightly on Castiel’s lower back as he pulled up, trying to search Dean’s face in the darkness. He could make out Dean’s chest moving in time with his hard breaths, could feel his cock pulse in his hand, and as the lightning flashed again, he could see so much trust and so much love in Dean’s eyes that it nearly took his breath away.

Ducking, he pressed a kiss into Dean’s neck. Dean shivered, his fingers sinking into Castiel’s back. As Castiel kissed a slow trail down Dean’s chest, Dean’s nails scraped lightly up his spine with the sinking movement.

Castiel worked slowly, lavished attention at Dean’s nipples, his belly button, the trembling muscles in his stomach. By the time he reached the band of his boxers, Dean’s hands now resting gently on his shoulders, Dean was freely panting. His lips were parted, and in the glow of electricity, his eyes were glazed.

He worked the elastic waist band over Dean’s hardness, watching as Dean’s breathing picked up, and, holding the band down and out of the way, slid his lips gently over the very tip of his cock.

Dean’s reaction was so strong, Castiel had to pull back. Dean gasped, bowing his back so sharply, Castiel thought he heard it crack.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean mumbled. “Oh my god, _Cas_.”

“Shit,” Castiel cursed back.

Seeing Dean lose it so fiercely over so little turned the intensity up ten fold. He worked the boxers off Dean’s legs quickly, Dean kicking them off easily when he reached his feet. Castiel settled back in, planting his hands on both sides of Dean’s hips, and sucked the tip of his cock back into his mouth. Dean’s high pitched whine was music to his ears as he slid down the length.

Castiel explored the flesh with his tongue, bobbing a couple times before popping off. He was going to ask if he was doing it okay, but Dean was panting so hard he was barely catching his breath, and his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the bed spread. Castiel groaned and reached a hand down to slide beneath his pajama bottoms, desperate for the relief.

“Don’t,” Dean said breathlessly from above him. Castiel’s eyes snapped up to meet Dean’s in the dark and his hand froze. The thunder rumbled close by.

He didn’t seem inclined to say anything further, and it was likely he couldn’t, so Castiel trusted there was a meaning behind his one word, and put his hand back on the bed. He focused all of his attention on Dean, on sucking him down, on practicing rhythm and technique and discovering how far he could take Dean down. He did move his hand again, but it was to caress below Dean’s penis, palming his balls in his hand as Dean gasped.

Every sound Dean made sent shots of want straight to his own cock, but he ignored the need as he brought Dean to the heights of pleasure.

“Cas,” Dean said brokenly. “I’m, I’m going to-“

Castiel’s hand moved without his conscious effort from fondling below Dean’s cock, to the white knuckled fist grasping the bed covers. Dean whined loud and hard as he laced his fingers through Castiel’s, and unloaded into his waiting mouth.

The yearning Castiel had for tasting Dean for the first time tapered off as he swallowed it all, surprisingly not minding the unique flavor. Awareness of the arousal coursing through his blood slowly took over and found focus. He was vibrating with the pleasure running through his veins. He was vaguely surprised he hadn’t come from the sheer pleasure that came from making Dean fall apart. If he had been able to touch himself, he would have finished before Dean.

Castiel listened to the storm that was still rumbling past as Dean’s breathing slowed and his eyes focused. He knew that Dean hadn’t forgotten about him, that he just needed a moment. Then Dean’s hands were reaching for him and urged him upwards. He pulled Castiel down for a kiss, running his tongue tentatively past Castiel’s lips.

“Mmm,” he mumbled. Castiel wondered what it was like to taste your own come in someone else’s mouth. He was sure he’d find out sooner rather than later.

As Dean teased Castiel’s mouth, his hands found Castiel’s hips and slid his pajama bottoms and boxers down. Castiel helped, angling up so Dean could slip them low enough for him to kick them off. He leaned back in, unable to get enough of Dean’s mouth, as Dean’s hands found his hips once again and guided them down. Castiel gasped when his erection pressed next to Dean’s softening one.

“Didn’t want you to come by your own hand,” Dean told him softly. His grip urged Castiel’s hips into a grinding rhythm, their two naked bodies sliding together. “Not when I’m right here.”

It was surprisingly easy to slide against Dean’s pelvis, spit and after fluid from Dean’s softening penis acting like lube on Dean’s neatly shaven skin. Dean’s cock felt sinful next to his own, and being fully naked against Dean was causing his brain to short circuit. Castiel knew they’d have to do this again when they were both hard. Many, many times.

Castiel pressed his lips into Dean’s again as he rocked gently into him. It didn’t take many thrusts, having been far too aroused and on edge for far too long, before he found himself whimpering into Dean’s mouth, coming between them. Dean waited until his orgasm had ridden out before wrapping his arms around Cas and rolling them onto their sides. Castiel went bonelessly, slotting one leg in between Dean’s without thought, with the other slung over.

“We should shower again,” Castiel murmured, on the edge of drifting off.

“M’not moving,” Dean said back. “Ever,” he added.

Castiel smiled.

The storm had almost completely passed, and he fell asleep for a second time that night to the soft patter of rain against the window with the safest, most loving arms wrapped around him.

**Wednesday, October 31 th 2012**

“Anna, you’re 12, where did you learn to speak like that?” Castiel said into his cellphone as Dean walked through the door. His cheeks were tinged pink, and like everything Castiel did (and sometimes didn’t do) Dean found it adorable. “Dean’s here, I should go. Anna! I’m not going to-“ Castiel shot Dean a slightly panicked look. “Anna stop. Anna! I’m going to hang up now.”

Castiel followed through with his threat, pressing a thumb to the screen and tossing his phone on the bed.

“You tell her?” Dean asked. They’d waited a little while before telling anyone they were together. Not because they were worried or embarrassed, but because they wanted the privacy and the intimacy for a tad longer. But Castiel didn’t have a lot of family, and he wanted to share the news with the one person who shared his blood.

Castiel nodded. “She’d thought we’d been together since the day she met us,” Castiel said. “And she’s growing up. She wouldn’t stop talking about us kissing and making out and I swear she was about to start talking about condoms when I hung up on her.”

They hadn’t even discussed condoms themselves. They simply weren’t there yet, both still feeling too new and too raw to the experience for it to even be a factor. Not only was Castiel completely inexperienced, but Dean had never been with a man either.

Dean chuckled as he collapsed on the couch. “Sam will be worse.”

Dean felt long, gorgeous fingers slide over his shoulders from behind, squeezing them gently, working out the tightness. “You haven’t told them yet?” Castiel asked as Dean threw his head back and groaned his appreciation. Castiel bent over peck to Dean’s lips, which Dean turned into a full blown tongue-in-throat kiss, reaching a hand up to hold Castiel’s head in place.

“Never going to get tired of that,” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s lips as he panted down into his. “And the answer is no,” Dean said, sitting back up and pushing Castiel’s hands back into place on his shoulder. He heard Castiel huff at the encouragement to continue, but he resumed the massage nevertheless. “I think I’ll just wait till Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Castiel asked, surprised. Dean didn’t miss the note of disappointment.

“Hey,” Dean said, catching one his hands and turning around on the couch, kneeling into the cushions. “I’m not ashamed of this. I’m not scared of who I am. Don’t go thinking that.”

As Castiel searched his eyes for a long hard moment while Dean’s thumbs stroked over his arms, his own eyes softened from faint worry, to acceptance. Sometimes Dean wondered if they would ever stop being in tune with each other, if they would ever lose the ability to convey beyond words with just their eyes alone. It was almost frightening, the power behind those moments.

“I just want to keep this our thing for a while longer, you know? I’m not worried about how they’ll react or anything.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “I understand. I’m sure Sam and your mom will accept it easily. Your dad-“

Dean cut Castiel off before the sentence could form. “He likes you so much Cas, if I’m worried about anything, it’s that he’ll steal you from me.”

“Well then it’s fortunate for us that I appear to be Deansexual,” Castiel softly with a smile, leaning in to press his lips to Dean’s.

He was all too happy to press back into the kiss. He knew Castiel meant the comment teasingly, lovingly, but there was a part of Dean that was still frightened by it. It was too much. Too much emotion, too much undeserved affection, and it terrified him that he would screw it all up. What if Dean was just a step along Castiel’s way to wanting other people too? What if he wasn’t? What if he really was Castiel’s end game?

So he did what he always does, and drowned his thoughts. Only drowning in Castiel was much more pleasurable than any method he’d used before. He pulled Castiel completely over the couch to join him, Castiel straddling his lap as Dean covered him with kisses and nips and licks.

Sometimes drowning in Castiel worked a little too well, and as his phone alarm went off from the pocket of his jeans tossed somewhere across the room, he realized they’d been making out and grinding slowly for more than an hour and he had to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Shit,” Dean said, a popping sound coming from where he unattached himself from Castiel’s neck. “Work,” he explained, climbing off of Cas.

“Work?!” Castiel said incredulously, sitting up on the couch. His hair was disheveled and he looks like sex on legs and all Dean wanted to do was crawl back down on him, but he really didn’t want to be late either.

“I know,” Dean said, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. “I hate it too Cas. I want to crawl back into bed with you and I want to go to Chuck and Victor’s party after I get you off good and proper, not go be stare-raped by creepers.”

“Then quit!” Castiel damn near shouted, getting up off the couch.

Dean sighed. “I can’t,” he explained. He hated how his voice sounded, so resigned. “You know that.” He turned to Cas and flinched under the look he was giving him.

“Take my money,” Castiel said crossing the room and working his way into Dean’s personal space.

“Don’t push, Cas,” Dean warned, his defenses rising quickly. This was a sore subject for him, and a complicated one to put it mildly. He had thought Cas understood that.

“Take my money and quit. If you hate it that bad, quit.”

“Cas, seriously-“

“Please, just take it and-“

“And what?” Dean finally shouted back, his defenses snapped to fully armed. “Be your personal whore instead of a public stripper?” Castiel’s jaw flopped open. “You knew what you were getting in to, Cas. Don’t ever treat me like something to be bought.”

Dean’s heart was beating so strongly, his head was starting to swim. He was drowning, he had to get out. He fled the room, slamming the door behind him and forgetting his keys. He would have forgotten his cell phone if it wasn’t already in his pants.

By the time he got to work, his head had cleared, but the problem had merely shifted. His stomach felt like a bag of rocks. They had never fought like that before. Little spats here and there, sure, but never like that. And Dean decided as he tried to swallow down the feeling that he was going to puke worms that he didn’t like it very much.

He put out his outfit for the night and tried to forget about his fight with Cas, but his smile felt even faker than normal, and he knew he wasn’t working his usual magic. If he was honest with himself, his fight with Cas was only part of the reason. The other part was that Castiel was right, he hated his job, and he should just quit. Naturally, he didn’t get as many tips as normal, even for a girl’s night Wednesday, and all in all, it was shaping up to be one the crappiest nights of his life.

When he finally got a break to check his phone, he saw that he had three text messages. At first he assumed they were from Castiel, but they weren’t. They were from Victor.

_Dude you might want to come collect your boyfriend._

Dean frowned at the first text. They hadn’t told their friends yet either, though this was mostly because they didn’t really need to.

_Really Dean. He’s stupid drunk._

_If you could hear the crazy shit coming out of his mouth right now…_

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, reaching for his clothes.

~

“We switched him to water like an hour ago,” Victor said to Dean, meeting him at the door. “Still totally trashed though.”

“Hey! There’s my whore!” Castiel said far too loudly from across the room. Chuck, laying on the floor next to Cas, flinched and pulled a pillow over his head.

“I got that,” Dean said grimly to Victor.

“Go easy on him, okay?” Victor said, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Whatever fight you guys had, he seemed pretty upset.”

Dean nodded, but verbally made no promises. He was pretty upset too and he didn’t go get himself trashed and start talking about Castiel’s private shit. The fact that if he hadn’t had to work, he probably would have gotten drunk was irrelevant. As was the fact that Castiel didn’t really have private shit.

Victor stepped back and Dean made a line for Cas, hoisting him straight over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Castiel protested weakly.

“I’m taking you home,” Dean said in response, walking just as quickly back to the door.

“I can walk, Dean,” Castiel said coldly just outside of Chuck and Victor’s party. Dean snorted and continued walking. “Put me down.”

“No,” Dean replied.

“And just why the fuck not?” Castiel asked.

“Because I’m mad at you and I feel better with you like this.”

Castiel snorted. “Yeah, well, I’m mad at you too. What do I get to do about it?”

“Apparently you get to get trashed and tell our friends my secrets,” Dean replied. “I mean what the fuck Cas? You can’t just say that shit!”

“No? But you can?”

Dean didn’t respond. He had no response, not even something snarky to say. He regretted saying what he said earlier, but he was also still pissed, so he said nothing and continued stomping his way back to the dorm room.

Curiously, Cas didn’t fight him any more on being put down. Dean had a sneaking suspicion he had passed out, and when he dropped Castiel on to the bed in their room and he curled up into a ball and tucked his head into his pillow, Dean had his confirmation.

Dean sighed heavily, scratching the back of his head.

“Fine,” he said to the adorable lump on the bed. “But we’re not done with this.”

~

Castiel woke up feeling a million times better than he thought he would. He’d have to thank Victor for switching him over to shots of water. He hadn’t even realized he wasn’t doing rum any more, he was that far gone.

He was completely over his fight with Dean. It had sucked, nothing had been accomplished, and he was fuzzy on the details, but he’s pretty sure he said some things at the party that he really shouldn’t have. He was ready to move on from it, and anxious to make up with Dean.

So naturally, he rolled over, pulled Dean’s boxers down, and sucked his dick into his mouth.

Dean jerked and made a delightful combination of a moan and a startled sound. A hand worked its way into Castiel’s hair, and without a single word being exchanged, insisted Castiel continue.

Dean was a little rough with him, gripping his hair a little tight, shoving him down a little more sharply than he normally would, and Castiel relished it. He raked his nails down Dean’s stomach, far rougher than their normal caresses, and Dean shuddered, tightening his grip. Castiel didn’t dare analyze if the mood was brought on by guilty feelings and enjoying the “punishment,” or if they were just burning through the energy and passions of the night before, still a little upset and very much a little needy.

“Cas,” Dean moaned, releasing himself into Castiel’s mouth.

Fortunately, Castiel had already discovered he didn’t mind the taste of spunk in his mouth, and swallowed it all. He wasn’t ready to be done yet though, and didn’t remove himself from Dean’s cock. He enjoyed the sensation of it beginning to soften in his mouth, and loved the sounds of Dean’s moans. His hands worked in his hair like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to encourage Cas or pull him off.

Of course pure biology dictated that the stimulation would eventually become more painful than pleasurable, and when it did, Dean gripped his hair and pulled him gently off.

Castiel panted for a few moments, staring down at Dean’s dazed eyes. Dean didn’t remove his hand from Castiel’s hair. It was like he was afraid to let go.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said eventually. “God I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you, and I shouldn’t have said half the things I said at the party, I’m sure. If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure they didn’t believe a word of it, if they could even understand it in the first place. Still, I’m so, so sorry, Dean.”

Dean stared intently at Castiel for a few moments, his eyes steely. “You knew going in what I did for a living, Cas. And I counted on you not judging me for it.”

It still hurt that that’s what Dean took away from it all. He took a deep breath before replying, “I don’t judge you Dean, and I certainly don’t think you’re a hooker. That accusation hurt like hell. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Dean admitted quietly after a moment.

“Don’t take for granted how much I care about you.”

Dean nodded, swallowing hard as the steel in his eyes went soft. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have flung that out there so carelessly.”

Dean’s face was one of pure apology, no more anger or heat. They’d had their first big fight, and they’d survived it. There was nothing left to do but press his apology to Dean’s lips.

They made out for a long time, reassuring each other with kisses and caresses, until Castiel had to get up to get ready for his med school interview. Then they made out in the shower until Dean slid to his knees and took Castiel into his mouth to repay the earlier favor. It was the first time he’d done that for Cas, and he felt so loved and so worshiped by the time he made it to his interview that he almost didn’t even care that he was five minutes late.

Almost. A lot was on the line, after all.

**Friday, December 14 th 2012 **

Christmas came in a whirlwind of classes, interviews and essays and follow ups for grad school, and trying to fit in time with Dean. They still ran when they could, and they still played Halo, and though frequently those things ended in more elicit activities, it still felt they were trying to fit being a normal couple in and around their lives, and it was feeling a bit cramped.

They’d come to an uneasy truce about Dean’s job at the club. Castiel tried not to worry or over analyze every time Dean had to leave to go to work, and Dean tried not to rub it in his face. Castiel found himself acting more possessive than he would have thought himself capable and frequently pressed Dean into the bed or the couch, or even the damn door if he was feeling frisky enough, the second he was home -glitter be damned- to cover him in kisses and drown him in orgasmic relief.

Dean wasn’t complaining about those moments by any means. It had become a game for them, testing the limits of how hard Castiel could suck a bruise before Dean would stop him, worried it would impact his job. He wasn’t very good at stopping him in time. Castiel knew he just covered the spots with concealer before hitting the stage, but it still made him feel damn good to know that his mark was there.

Of course, Castiel wasn’t covering him in hickeys just for his own benefit. The toll that his job was taking on Dean was becoming more and more obvious and Dean needed the distraction and physical and emotional comfort as much as Castiel needed to give it to him. Still, Dean wouldn’t quit his job, and Castiel knew there was no point in trying to talk him into it again.

That didn’t mean that he was going to sit back and do nothing about it. And if his plans over the break worked out the way he hoped they would, it might not be an issue for much longer.

~

Dean was grateful to be home for Christmas. It was grounding. He felt safe at home, and the break from school and his work life was one he needed all too badly. It was also his first Christmas with Castiel as a couple, and he knew it was time to bite the bullet and tell his family about him and Cas. He wasn’t worried about how Sam and his mom would react. Sam, the little shit, had made it perfectly clear how okay he was with it when he was pushing them to be together, and his mom is simply too loving and accepting to care about such a thing. He was pretty sure he could tell her he wanted to marry a potato and she’d accept it.

He was a bit concerned about his dad though, regardless of what he had told Castiel before. John had always been more of a traditionalist and had always subtly guided Dean towards more traditionally masculine things, like playing baseball instead of trying out for the cheerleaders, or listening to classic rock instead of learning clarinet. Truthfully, his dad was probably part of the reason he had denied being bisexual for so long. It wasn’t that he was worried exactly, but he also wasn’t in a rush to find out how his dad would feel about it.

Yet, Cas was important to him. Extremely important to him, and Dean hoped he wouldn’t be fucking up the relationship any time soon. So it was time to tell them. Their friends knew now, Anna knew, they were the only people left. He just hadn’t figure out how to tell them yet.

Fortunately for him, the decision was taken from his hands at dinner, several nights into Christmas break.

They were having pork, a detail Dean was pretty sure he’d remember till the day he’d die. Just as he’d remember staring far too much at Castiel’s hands as he handled his knife and fork. There was a lull in the conversation, a pleasant, familial one, when Cas spoke.

“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said, placing his knife down. He was cut off before he could continue with a heavy eye roll from John.

“For the love of God, Cas. It’s John. If you’re going to be doing unspeakable things with my son, I think you can consider us on familiar enough grounds to call me _John_.”

Dean jerked so hard his fork went flying through the air and clattered on the ground. Castiel’s face was quickly turning pink as his jaw hit the table, and Sam, the little bitch, was smirking at him.

“Wha, wha, what?” Dean asked, stunned. He had never considered for even a second that his parents might already know. He’d assumed Sam had either been joking around or talking about other people when he’d told him everyone thought they were already together.

“It’s been pretty obvious since we picked you up,” Mary said gently. “You’re both glowing, you barely stop touching-“

“I caught you making out on the couch downstairs yesterday,” Sam added in.

“You are being safe, right? Using protection?” John asked.

Dean’s head went from perfectly normal to swimming so quickly, he could barely follow the flow of conversation under the tide of embarrassment. But at least he wasn’t alone. Castiel’s head was in his hands, and Dean couldn’t decide if it was better or worse for him that it wasn’t _his_ genetic parents doing the embarrassing.

“We haven’t. That’s not,” Dean floundered on his own. _Cas, help me out here, you son of a bitch_.

Castiel did, because apparently they are psychic after all. His head whipped up and he said quickly, “Can I borrow the car tomorrow?” He was met with confused faces, including Deans. “That’s all I was going to ask. _John_ ,” Castiel added pointedly.

Dean didn’t breath for a moment, waiting and hoping the topic would change, and that Castiel cheek wasn’t about to get him tossed out.

“What do you want the car for?” John asked, after blinking away the confusion at the abrupt change in topic.

“KUMC called me for a second interview,” Castiel explained, relaxing slightly. “They didn’t call until today or I would have asked earlier.”

Dean was surprised. He had thought all of the med school interviews were over. Castiel had gone to his fair share, he even flew out for a few, but he remembers KUMC, The University of Kansas Medical Center, as one of the first that called. Castiel had been wracked with nerves over it. It hadn’t helped, he was sure, that it came in the middle of the crazy tension between them, before they had finally gotten together.

John was nodding, “Yeah, I can take Mary to work tomorrow. Take the Chevy.”

Castiel relaxed completely with a breathy, “Thank you.”

Dean was still trying to figure out what just happened.

~

Dean was playing Sam in the Star Wars game when Castiel got back from his long day out. Fortunately, Sam’s gigantic body was sprawled across the armchair, which gave Castiel ample room to collapse on the couch and put his feet in Dean’s lap.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said without looking over. A grenade exploded on the ground by his character and he cursed as the load screen for a new character came up. “How’d the interview go?”

“Great, actually. They wanted to talk to me about my ambitions with childhood oncology. Apparently it’s a pretty rare field for someone to be interested in,” Castiel told Dean. Dean didn’t need to know yet that the interview only lasted an hour, and that he spent part of the day at the lawyer’s office.

“So did they decide to skip the letter-in-the-mail horseshit and offer you an opening then and there?” Dean asked. He was momentarily distracted again by Sam warning him that an AT-AT was headed his way.

Castiel sighed. “I wish. Sure would take a lot of the stress out of this.”

Dean shot the last of the enemy’s soldiers with a whoop. He looked over to Cas with a huge grin. The grin softened as he looked at Cas. He sat his controller down. “Hey Sammy, go get us some sodas will you?”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but shut it with a click and got out of the chair. It groaned at the adjusted weight. “Fine, but I’ll only be a few minutes, so no kinky shit while I’m gone.”

“You underestimate how fast I can be,” Dean shot back with a smirk. When Castiel snorted and Sam raised his eyebrows at him, he flushed. “Just go get the damn drinks,” Dean grumbled with a wave.

“He’ll be applying to college soon,” Castiel commented as Sam went up the stairs. Dean’s hands found his feet and started rubbing. Castiel moaned, eyes drifting shut. “Mmmm, that feels good.”

“He will,” Dean agreed. “And I’m going to make sure he gets the best school. And that he can afford it.”

Castiel heard the slight edge to his tone. He wasn’t trying to fight. It was the furthest thing from his mind. “You’re a good brother, Dean,” Castiel replied with sincerity. “And a pretty good boyfriend, too.”

Castiel’s feet were dropped to the couch as Dean shifted around. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Dean was climbing over him. He smiled as Dean pressed their lips together. “You look so damn hot in that suit, Cas,” Dean whispered against his ear. “Want to rip it off you.”

He knew how desperately him in a suit turned Dean on from the numerous other interviews he’d been on that year. It was one of the reasons he’d left it on instead of going to change before joining them on the couch.

Sam cleared his throat from about three feet away, jerking them apart and ending a searing kiss.

“What did I say?” Sam asked.

“’I wish I were a mermaid,’” Dean supplied, sitting up and yanking a can from Sam’s hands. “Every night before bed. For weeks.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I was six.”

“I wanted to be a Dalmatian,” Castiel said from his horizontal spot on the couch. All eyes looked to him. Castiel shrugged. “They had so much fun. All 101 of them. Such a big, loving family.”

Dean’s eyes softened at him and Castiel found, not for the first time, he couldn’t look away.

Sam cleared his throat again. “Right, so. We can restart the map Cas, if you want to join us.”

Castiel waved his hand in the air lackadaisically and closed his eyes. “No need. I’ll watch.”

Dean settled in again, purposefully pulling Castiel’s feet into his lap. He rubbed them in down times in the game, and Castiel wondered if Heaven was finding someone who’d rub your feet for you, without you even having to ask.

~

“Hey,” a voice said softly. “Cas. Hey. Wake up babe.”

Castiel realized the voice was Dean’s well before his eyes fluttered open. Light kisses were being pressed to his cheeks and he sighed with contentment. Memories of the night before came flooding back to him. Dean did _really_ like that suit. He was pretty sure it went further than the suit though. Dean had a clothing kink, and it was something Castiel intended to exploit in the future.

“Morning,” Cas rumbled at him, his hand caressing Dean’s back. He could see morning sun streaming through the half windows of the basement. It was going to be a gorgeous Saturday. “What’s the occasion?”

“Dad left,” Dean said, rubbing his nose across Castiel’s neck. “We can go get the tree.”

Dean knew him so well. That woke him up instantly, the morning grogginess disappearing. “Do you want to hear the story I’ve got planned?”

“No, not really,” Dean told him frankly. He sucked a quick mark into Castiel’s bare chest, just below his clavicle. Castiel’s breath hitched. “I’ll worry about being grounded for life after you tell it to him.”

Dean worked kisses down his chest while Castiel slid his fingers through the fine dark blonde strands. “You woke me up to get a quickie in before getting the tree,” Castiel accused with labored breath.

“Can you blame me?” Dean asked as he slid the boxers over Castiel’s growing erection. He usually wore pajama bottoms too, and Castiel is fairly grateful Dean had talked him into throwing on just the boxers when they were done last night. Not that Cas had seemed inclined to go looking for pajamas at the time anyway. It was the first time Dean had slid a finger inside of him and it had rendered him fairly incoherent.

“No, not really,” Castiel replied, repeating his words back to him.

It was the last intelligible words he would say until they were in the car, on the way to get the tree.

Even then, he didn’t speak much. It was a very pleasant drive and he was content to relax and bask in the afterglow. There were times he truly regretted that neither he nor Dean had a car. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Castiel had a car, but he had left it at his family’s home when he went to college and it just never seemed an appropriate time to go get it. But as the sun streamed through the windows lighting Dean up like a golden god and the music played on the radio, he decided they needed to do this more often.

The radio switched over to a commercial, so Dean toggled the knob. He stopped at what sounded like Christmas music mixed with classic rock. Castiel sucked in a breath.

Dean glanced at him, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s Trans-Siberian Orchestra,” Castiel explained. “You haven’t heard of them?” Dean shook his head. “You’d like them.”

Dean cocked his head and listened for a moment. “I do,” he said, he said with a smile.

The DJ came on and announced that they were doing a back to back line up with TSO, and that they were holding a contest each day to get the free tickets to the sold out concert on December 29th. The next song was Wisdom of Snow, a purely instrumental piece.

“This is my favorite song,” Castiel said softly.

Dean glanced at him and smiled again. He reached across the seat and squeezed his hand. It would never cease to amaze Castiel how affectionate Dean truly was.

~

“Well you see, John,” Castiel began, “It was aliens.”

“Aliens?!” Dean interrupted in a high pitched squeal, completely giving the game away. Well, if it was ever to be believed in the first place.

Castiel ignored him. “Aliens. They abducted Dean and me and tried to do some testing, which is why we have all these marks, you see. But when they discovered how profound our bond was, they felt bad and let us go. They gave us the tree as compensation.”

Castiel had never seen John laugh so hard. Judging by Dean’s expression, neither had he.

~

Castiel awoke on Christmas morning to an empty bed. His hand flailed out for Dean and met nothing. So much for a lazy Christmas morning make out session.

He dragged himself out of bed and into a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old sweatshirts. It had his high school’s baseball team’s name printed on it and he snuggled into its warmth and scent traces of Dean.

He was about to leave the room when he noticed that notification light flashing on his phone. It was a text message from Dean, and it was probably what woke him up.

_Wake up Cas, I want to give you my gift._

Castiel smiled at the message and moved to slide Dean’s gift into the waistband of his pants.

When he opened the door to the ground level of the house, music started from the piano in the other room. He knew the song well. It was Wisdom of Snow. He crossed to the living room in an unhurried rush, propping on the doorframe and watching in awe.

Dean was the one sitting at the piano. No one else was up. Castiel didn’t know Dean could even play.

When the last notes died out, Dean looked up to him and smiled so tenderly, Castiel had no choice but to come immediately to him and press their lips together.

“Mmm,” Dean mumbled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Cas said softly back as he slid down to sit on the bench, facing the opposite way so they could face each other. “Was this my present? I didn’t know you could play.”

Dean chuckled. “No, no. I mean, it’s part of it. I made Sam teach me how to play that, late at night, after you’d fallen asleep.” Dean reached over to the other side of the bench and came back with what was unmistakably two tickets. “I know you probably wondered why I kept sneaking off this break. I was trying to win those tickets to that rock Christmas concert.” Dean caressed Castiel’s cheek gently with his thumb. “The Symphony and Metallica concert. It was the first time I chose you over someone else. I thought this would be a nice way to relive it.”

Castiel’s lips turned up with happiness and he felt tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. He reach for Dean’s hand, the one still caressing his face, and squeezed it, pulling it off gently. Then he felt for the slim object he had slid into his waistband and pulled out Dean’s present.

“Great minds,” he said, producing two tickets to the Tran Siberian Orchestra concert.

Dean’s eyes went round with surprise just before he started laughing, loud and joyously. “Oh god,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “No wonder they started cracking up when I told them my boyfriend’s name.”

“I had given them mine already,” Castiel agreed. “Probably not a lot of Castiel’s looking for TSO tickets for their boyfriend.”

“What do we do with the extra tickets?” Dean asked.

“Sam,” Castiel said easily. “Sam can invite Jessica.”

Dean shook his head ever so slightly as he beamed at Castiel. “Sometimes I can’t believe I’m allowed to have you.”

Sam came down the stairs shortly after that, and the day got into full swing. Presents were exchanged as usual, Castiel was still touched by being treated like family, despite knowing he was an adopted Winchester by heart, they still pigged out at dinner, and Bobby didn’t even bat an eyelash when Castiel and Dean exchanged a kiss at the dinner table. 

They still sang Christmas carols until the parents went to bed, and then Sam asked them what they wanted to sing next. 

“Could you humor me, Sam?” Castiel asked. “That first one from the soundtrack book.”

The first one in the soundtrack book was Come What May from Moulin Rouge. Castiel serenaded Dean with all he had, and for once, it wasn’t just a joke. Dean pulled Castiel in for a kiss while the last notes died out.

Sam thought it was the perfect moment to play Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer.

Castiel threw his head back and laughed, joining in on the lyrics. When it was over, he taught the Winchester brothers the version of that song Gabriel liked to sing. Needless to say, they both turned shades of red previously undiscovered throughout the recitation of the lyrics.

It was quite a while before Sam begged off for bed. He thanked them again for the tickets to the concert, and Dean told him to thank them by getting his ass in gear and asking Jessica out.

Castiel shook his head at the brother’s “bitch” and “jerk” exchange while he slid behind the piano.

“What did you think of my song earlier?” he asked, already knowing the response.

Dean bit his lip. “It was beautiful, Cas,” Dean said. He hesitated, then added. “But super sappy songs aren’t quite my cup of tea.”

“I know,” Castiel said with a reassuring smile. “One more? I think you’ll like this one more.” Dean nodded and slipped onto the bench next to Castiel.

Castiel flipped the song book open to a page labeled The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel. The page said it was from the movie Shall We Dance. It was a song about a cynic of love, who finds it anyway. It was the song for someone not in to sentimental love songs, but had been touched in the heart very profoundly nonetheless.

The kiss Dean pulled him in for at the song’s conclusion was much more passionate than before.

“Wonderful,” he whispered.

“Hmmm,” Castiel agreed against Dean’s lips.

He waited until they were downstairs, in bed, exchanging slow, lazy, post-orgasmic kisses before he finally said it. He had realized it was time when Dean presented those tickets in the morning.

“I love you,” he said simply. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s nose before settling in, laying his head on Dean’s chest. Dean didn’t respond right away, but he wasn’t worried. He knew what Dean felt, no matter how ready he was to say it.

“Just like that, huh?” Dean finally said.

“No,” Castiel responded easily. “Not just like that. It scared me too.”

They laid in quiet for a long time, Castiel listening to Dean’s heart beat through his chest while Dean’s hand played with his hair, twirling the strands around. He was so happy and so satisfied that he was beginning to drift off when Dean spoke again.

“I love you too,” Dean whispered. “And it terrifies me.”

Castiel, happily surprised, turned his head and pressed his lips to the stretch of chest he could reach. “I could never hurt you, Dean.”

“No,” Dean agreed, “But I could hurt you.”

It was perhaps the most vulnerable thing Castiel had ever heard him say. He sounded so raw that it gave Castiel goose bumps. He turned until he was back on top of Dean, looking straight down at him and making sure Dean met his eyes. When Dean stopped trying to look away, he said as clear as he could, “No, you couldn’t.”

Dean pulled him back in for another kiss, but this one spoke of a depth and desperation their kisses hadn’t held before. Castiel met Dean’s fervor with everything he had, reassuring Dean through a language as old as mankind itself that he was never going anywhere.

**Thursday January 31 st 2013**

Dean was sweating hard by the time they made it back to their room, despite the fact that it was below 45 degrees outside. He’d come back from class to find Castiel vibrating with energy. His knee was bouncing, and though he was sitting in front of a textbook cracked open on his desk, it was obvious he wasn’t reading it.

When Dean had asked what was wrong, Castiel explained that a classmate had received their acceptance letter to a med school in Chicago, and he was hoping he’d get his, from somewhere, anywhere, any day now.

He was pacing the floor so fast that it only seemed logical they go for a run.

They went pretty far too, as it had been too cold to run for a little while now. Dean smiled every time they passed a place that held memories for them. They ran by Chuck and Victor’s house and waved at Jo, who jumped up on the balcony and yelled a greeting back. They ran by the bar where Castiel had shown Dean that he already knew how to shoot pool. It was late in their run by the time they ran by the hospital, and the nearby animal shelter where they had dropped off Trippy.

“I wonder whatever happened to that little dog you tripped over,” Castiel said as he bent over to stretch out his back and legs in the warmth of their room.

Dean pulled his arm across his chest and tried not to get distracted by all the illicit things he could do to Cas in that position. “Adopted,” he said, aiming for casual. “To a nice home. I stopped by a while ago and asked.”

Castiel straightened up sharply and looked at Dean in both surprise and disappointment. “Oh,” was all he said.

“You disappointed, Cas?” Dean said, tone teasing. He dropped his arm. “Thought you’d go in and see him?”

Castiel bit his lip and looked to the side, embarrassed apparently, at having been caught out.

“Hey,” Dean said, walking into his personal space and taking his shoulders in his hands. “We’ll get our own dog one day.” Castiel looked up, both surprise and happiness registering in his blue eyes. “Small or big, maybe one of both.”

“You think about our future, Dean?” Castiel asked. There was something profound laced deep within his tone, but it was easy to answer his question nonetheless.

“’Course I do,” Dean replied. “We’re going to get a nice house in the suburbs, one with a real fence so our dogs can play free. And I know you like cats too, so I figure we’ll have a full house.”

“Kids?” Castiel asked, voice breathless, and not from running.

“Maybe,” Dean said with a soft smile. “Look, I know it might take a few years. You’ve got med school and all that first. I figure I’ll find a job in whatever city you go to and we’ll … well.”

“We’ll make it up as we go along,” Castiel supplied.

“Yeah,” Dean said, pressing his lips into Castiel’s.

Castiel melted into the kiss. There was no other way to describe it. He opened up and let Dean in like he was the meant to be in that space. Castiel’s fingers dragged across his scalp while Dean pulled him closer. He growled. He’d always loved the way Castiel’s scent was heightened when he sweat.

“I love you,” Castiel said into his lips. “Dean,” he repeated, jumping up, trusting that Dean would catch him and wrapping his legs around Dean. “I love you so much.” He pressed a needy kiss into Dean’s neck. “I’m ready.” Another one on the other side. “I’m ready Dean, I want you to make love to me,” Castiel said, sucking onto his earlobe. “I want you in me.”

Dean let out a choked sob sound that he didn’t even know he was capable of making. They still hadn’t crossed that line yet. But with Cas pressing kisses into his skin and whispering his desires, Dean knew he was ready too.

Unfortunately, his phone was the biggest cock blocker that ever lived. The alarm went off just as Castiel was reaching for the hem of his shirt.

Castiel groaned out, long and frustrated.

Dean sighed.

“Fuck,” he mumbled. “I have to be at the club in 20 minutes and I still have to wash some of this sweat off of me.” He gave Castiel a quick peck on the lips. “Rain check, okay?” he asked. He hoped Castiel could hear how truly sorry he was.

Castiel nodded. “It’s okay, Dean,” he said. Dean’s heart twisted as Castiel smiled like his heart was breaking.

~

_Damn him_ , Dean thought an hour later as he waited backstage for his cue.

Damn his perfect, understanding boyfriend.

It would be one thing if Castiel’s problems with him stripping were purely selfish, if it was based in pure jealousy or prejudice against the field. He already knew it wasn’t prejudice, Castiel had been open minded about his career since the day his brother had ordered him a lap dance. He knew jealousy was part of it, but he didn’t really blame Castiel for it. He knew he would be worse if their roles were reversed.

But there was more to it. Castiel had always been able to see more about himself than anyone Dean had ever met. He understood Dean on a very intrinsic, personal level. He could see the toll the job was having on Dean, without him having to explain. He could see how much it was making him feel like shit. How low his self-esteem had plummeted.

And yet he loved Dean anyway, saw the best in him. Encouraged him. He’d never made Dean feel ashamed or unworthy. He looked at Dean like he was made of pure, perfect gold.

Dean could have been content for a long time, stripping for fun and money, believing himself mediocre at best, someone without any real potential in life.

As Dean took the stage and put on a fake smile, his heart thudded hard in his chest. There was literally nothing on Earth he wanted to be doing less right now than taking off his clothes for complete strangers.

His smile faltered.

Castiel believed in him. It was time he start believing in himself.

He stopped dancing. Murmurs went through the crowd, but he barely heard them. He stormed straight back stage, turned to the set coordinator and said, “I quit.”

Changing into his normal clothes happened in a blur. Quitting felt right, but it was quickly setting in, what he had done. He needed that money. His family, _Sam,_ needed that money. Was he being selfish? Was he making a big deal out of nothing? Maybe he made a big mistake. Maybe it’s not too late to go back and beg for forgiveness and clean the toilets for a month in apology.

No.

His body was vibrating with just how badly it didn’t want him turning back around.

He burst through the door into their suite panting and shaking.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, standing up from his desk and making quickly for Dean. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I quit,” Dean told him. He laughed like a mad man. He felt like a mad man. “Cas, I quit. I quit the club.”

“You…?” Castiel began, taking a moment for it to sink in. Then Castiel’s arms were wrapped tight around him and Dean knew deep in his bones he’d made the right call. That he should have made it a lot sooner.

Dean laughed and then sobbed into Castiel’s shoulder. “I quit, Cas,” he repeated. “I couldn’t do it anymore. Oh god, Sam. The money-“

“Hey,” Castiel said, pulling back to meet his gaze, “It’s not as important as you being happy, Dean.” He pressed a soft kiss into Dean’s lips. “It’s okay to put yourself first every once in a while.”

Dean let out another choked off sob and pressed his lips back into Castiel’s.

“You are the first person to ever make me believe that,” he told him. “I love you, Cas. I love you so much.”

He didn’t give Castiel a chance to reply. He was too busy kissing Castiel like a drowning man gasping for air. Castiel responded in kind, matching Dean’s passion. He was completely in tune with Dean, knowing what he needed, knowing that he felt vulnerable and needed grounding without him even having to say so.

They made their way to the bed (they had long ago ditched the other one in the basement of their building) where they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and kisses. Dean was lost in Castiel, in the anchor that he provided in his life.

When he sucked Castiel’s earlobe in between his teeth, Cas arched sharply beneath him with a moan.

“Jesus, Dean,” he said, scrabbling to pull Dean’s t-shirt off. Dean sat up on his knees and ripped it off overhead, quickly leaning back in to resume sucking marks into Castiel’s skin.

Castiel let him, he always let him, and if his marks were more numerous today than others, Castiel didn’t show any signs that he minded. That is, until he pushed at Dean’s shoulder and flipped them over, straddling Dean with ease. He bent down and attached his lips to Dean’s pulse point and sucked hard.

Dean gasped.

“I can do this now,” Castiel growled into his ear. “I don’t have to hide them, I don’t have to hold back. You don’t have to cover them with makeup. I can show you how much you mean to me, and you can show the world.”

As Castiel set to work sucking and nibbling on his bare chest, Dean discovered a new type of joy. For one, he’d never realized how sensitive his neck was. The spot behind his ear, the bolt of his jaw, the hollow of his neck. He was panting like a marathon runner and his skin was singing.

“Cas,” he rasped. “We need to be more naked. Like yesterday.”

Castiel responded by sneaking his hands down to undo the button and fly on Dean’s jeans. He slipped his hand in and gave Dean a squeeze. Dean jumped.

“Fucker,” Dean said. “Take them _off_.”

Castiel chuckled, but complied, pulling off Dean’s boxers and pants, stopping to toss his shoes and socks with them. Dean gave himself a few strokes as he watched Castiel pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. Castiel’s body was gorgeous. He could have made a lot of money stripping. Not that Dean would have ever encouraged that. … At least not _public_ stripping.

Once Castiel was naked, he settled himself between Dean’s legs, propped himself up on his elbows, and took Dean into his very talented mouth.

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, wrapping his fingers in Castiel’s hair. Castiel, over the last few months, had perfected his technique and could take Dean all the way to the base without gagging. And he could do it while also pressing his tongue to sweet spots Dean hadn’t even been aware of. The man could get him off in minutes if he wanted to.

This was not a time that Dean wanted to.

“Cas,” Dean whimpered weakly, flexing his finger in Cas’s hair. “Cas, stop.” Castiel seemed reluctant to ease up, so Dean pulled gently on his hair until he came off with a slurp. “Don’t want to come yet,” he said meekly. Castiel nodded his understanding, moving up to exchange a sloppy kiss instead.

“I’m ready Cas,” he whispered into Castiel’s mouth when he broke for air. “What you said earlier? I’m ready too.”

Castiel pulled back sharply, and his eyes dilated just as quick. “You’re sure?”

“Gods yes,” Dean replied.

Castiel scrambled sideways, his slim, toned body stretching above Dean as he reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. It was half gone already. Once they discovered the joy of teasing each other with carefully inserted fingers, it had become a favorite activity.

Dean watched Castiel pop open the lid and coat his fingers, but grabbed Castiel’s wrist as he reached backwards to slide into himself.

“No,” he said softly but sternly. “I want you in me.” He blushed fiercely but didn’t break eye contact with Castiel.

“Dean,” Castiel said with something that sounded like reverence. “Are you sure?” It was a fair question. Dean had had more reservations when they had started with anal play. They hadn’t really discussed who would bottom and who would top, but it would have been a safe assumption that Castiel would bottom. At least for the first time.

“I’m positive,” Dean said, rubbing his thumb on Castiel wrist. Castiel searched his eyes, and as he always has, found the truth within them.

As Castiel slid a finger slowly and gently into him, working just barely around the rim before slipping in, Dean relaxed with a sigh. He’d _needed_ this. He needed Castiel to take care of him, to sooth his nerves, to be his rock. To love him, unconditionally. He could never voice this of course, but with Castiel, he had never needed to.

Cas prepped him with the same affection and adoration that he kissed, hugged, and caressed with. It may be the first time they had full, anal penetrative sex, but it was not the first time they had made love. Castiel’s ministrations were a balm to his soul, a carefully crafted dance that they were both familiar with, just with a few new steps. He worked Dean open with tenderness, peppering him with kisses and caresses. He never once felt an ounce of pain.

“Condom?” Castiel had asked once Dean was feeling completely relaxed and ready. He sounded breathless, more than a little worked up himself.

Dean shook his head. “Skip it, Cas. We don’t need it.”

Castiel nodded as he grabbed the spare pillow and Dean lifted his hips to let him slide it underneath. It may have been unnecessary, but the care that Castiel was showing him was making his heart fill up so completely, there would never be a single doubt that Castiel was his love for life.

Castiel adjusted himself between Dean’s legs, lining himself up with Dean’s body. He felt the pressure of Castiel at his hole, faint but firm. Castiel moved his hands to Dean’s hips and steadied himself. The look he gave Dean was filled with so much passion that Dean almost had to blink away. He didn’t though. Couldn’t miss a moment of the light dance inside Castiel’s eyes as he gently pressed in.

His breath hitched in his chest as they connected in the most intimate way physically possible. He’d given Castiel his heart, and received his in return. Now, with Castiel fully inside of him, their bodies mirrored that union.

Castiel froze as he bottomed out, his mouth hanging open slightly and his eyes glazed.

Dean had to take a few deep breaths himself. “Yeah,” he eventually whispered. Castiel’s eyes unglazed as he met Dean’s and his lips curled into a smile.

As Castiel pulled ever so slightly out and pressed ever so slightly back in, Dean reached inside Castiel’s arms -still holding his own hips- to wrap his hands around Castiel’s waist and pull him close. It limited the movement, but Dean didn’t particularly care. Castiel rocked into him just the same, unconcerned with picking up the pace.

“I wanted this so badly,” Castiel said softly, his thumbs beginning a caress on his skin. “When you were talking about our future. I hadn’t known if you felt the same, if you had looked that far down the road.” He pulled back just a bit more, and Dean loosened his grip, letting him. “Do you know why I’ve been so stressed about med school, Dean?”

Dean bit his lips and shook his head. He trusted there was a reason Cas was bringing this up.

“Because I wanted to stay with you. I didn’t want to get accepted by Boston or New York. I wanted to get accepted by KUMC so I could stay in Kansas with you. It didn’t ever occur to me that you would follow me. Until today.”

“Cas,” Dean gasped, picking up his legs and wrapping them around Castiel, helping him pick up the force of his thrusts. “How could you doubt that?”

“I’ve been planning this for a long time, since before you and I were… well, you and I,” Castiel explained. He shifted his hands, reached for Dean’s own, and brought their hands, entwined together, by Dean’s head. It shifted him over Dean and the angle of their connection changed. Dean moaned his approval, using his legs to encourage Cas to move faster. “I guess I simply never re-evaluated.”

“You’re it Cas,” Dean told him, though it was getting increasingly hard to focus on forming words. “You’ve always been it. You’re all I want, you will _always be_ all I’ll ever want.”

Castiel responded the only way that felt right, by slamming his lips into Dean’s, drinking the pure, unadulterated love out of them.

He rocked into Dean with fervor, bending Dean’s body with the force, nearly nullifying the point of the pillow. It was then that Dean felt the impact on his prostate, pleasure running through his veins over and over with such speed that he nearly lost vision. He must have screamed because Cas was whispering agreements and his world was collapsing in a beautiful, pleasurable explosion around him.

Occasionally, very rarely, one can orgasm with more than just their genitalia. It can tremor through their entire body and echo in their soul.

Dean had one of those orgasms then, with Castiel pressing love into his skin, shaking and following him through with one of his own.

They curled up tightly on the bed and didn’t think of anything remotely related to life outside of each other for a very long time.

**Monday, February 4 th 2013**

“Dean,” Castiel greeted him as he came in the door from class. Castiel was vibrating with energy, a huge smile across his face.

It was incredibly familiar. In some sort of cosmic approval of their relationship, Castiel’s letter of acceptance to KUMC came the day after Dean had quit his job and they had made love in one of those (hopefully not) once in a lifetime ways. Not only had he been offered a position, but they were _investing_ in him. They didn’t currently have a pediatric oncology unit, but they liked the sound of one and while Castiel completed med school, he would also be helping to set up his own, newly formed department.

It had been such fantastic news that they had called up Victor, Chuck, Becky, Jo, and virtually everyone they had ever hung out with and gotten spectacularly drunk at the bar down the street.

That’s when Dean found out that even completely shit faced Castiel could still take _all of them_ in pool.

Needless to say, it was a complete mystery why Castiel was now buzzing with excitement.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said carefully, setting down his bag. “What’s up?”

“We need to make a trip to your parents. Now,” Castiel said with a grin that certainly did not match the odd proclamation.

“Um. Because you miss Sam?”

“Because I need to offer your dad a job,” Castiel said, bouncing on his feet.

Dean blinked. He blinked again. He was definitely awake, and Castiel was definitely not a hallucination, nor did he appear to be joking.

Castiel sat down on the couch and patted the cushion for Dean to join him.

“Do you remember when I went on that second KUMC interview?” Castiel asked, standing up again. He apparently had too much energy to sit. Dean watched him pace the room.

“Yeah…”

“Well I did go on an interview, but that’s not all I did. I also stopped by my lawyer’s office. I had gotten the ball rolling earlier, but I needed to see him to push it along,” Castiel explained. He was still grinning, but Dean still had no idea what was going on.

“Okay…”

“I bought out Crowley. Officially, as of two hours ago.”

“You… what?!” Dean exclaimed, standing up.

“It will now be called Gabriel’s Classic Restorations and Repairs. It is strictly an investment for me Dean, I have no idea how to run such a place or fix a classic car. Your dad, I’m giving him complete control of the business. And if one day he wanted to buy it off me, well, I think he’d find me a generous negotiator.”

Castiel looked so damn proud of himself. He’d found a way around Dean and his family refusing his money. This was still assistance, because as much as Castiel could try to frame it as an investment for himself, Dean knew he didn’t care one lick about how much money this venture would make. So he was still helping, but his dad would be working for it. His paycheck would be based on the fruits of his own labors. He might resist, might not like “working for” Castiel, but Dean understood Castiel wasn’t seeing it that way.

Hopefully John would come round on it too, or Castiel would have an auto shop without a manager.

And if he accepted the position, it would mean Dean would never need to worry about his family’s money situation again.

Dean found himself laughing. He picked up Castiel and twirled him around like he weighed nothing at all. Castiel smiled happily and proudly back at him.

“I love you,” Dean said sincerely, setting Cas down. “Come what may.”

Castiel’s grin softened at the words, recognizing them instantly as the title of one of the songs he had sung Dean. It was remarkable Dean would remember. He stroked his thumb gently across the back of Dean’s hand.

“Come what may,” he agreed.


	5. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

**Saturday June 8 th 2013**

Castiel cracked open a beer and laughed as he watched Sam pick up Anna and throw her onto his shoulders. Anna was suddenly seven feet taller. He hoped she didn’t get a nose bleed from the altitude.

Mother Nature had graced them with the perfect day for his and Dean’s graduation party. The sun was warm without being hot and the breeze was subtle and soothing. All of their friends and family had been able to make it. As he watched the conversations and laughter and joy, he felt the loving glow of family. There was a bittersweet note, always in the background, as these times would always serve to remind him of those he had lost, especially Gabriel. But it also served to remind him how special it was to have what he had now. That he had Anna in his life again, that he had an adoptive family that loved him like one of their own.

And it was all thanks to Dean.

He turned just in time to see his lover step outside with an envelope in his hand.

“Hey,” Dean said, coming up to him with a quick peck to his lips. Somewhere, Castiel heard Becky and Jo catcall. He’d have thought they’d be over that by now.

“What’s that?” Castiel asked, motioning to the envelope.

“Your graduation present from me. And mom, and Dad, and Sam, and pretty much everyone here.”

Castiel realized the commotion had died down and everyone had turned to watch them. He took the envelope from Dean like it might bite him. The attention was making him nervous.

“Open it,” Dean encouraged.

Inside was a picture of a baby grand piano.

Castiel’s lips parted with a soft gasp.

“It’s on hold until we get the keys to our condo.”

They had been very fortunate. Dean had been offered a position in the Lawrence Child Services department a month before graduation. Between his stable job and Castiel’s credibility, they had been able to get a loan for a small property. Castiel, of course, could have afforded more, but Dean had insisted on splitting the cost, and Castiel was quite happy with something homey and welcoming, rather than big and oppressive.

Everyone was waiting for a reaction.

They were probably not expecting him to laugh.

They were certainly not expecting him to laugh until there were tears in his eyes.

He passed Dean a small card that he had stowed safely in his back pocket early and explained, “It’s a guitar.” Dean stared dumbly at the card. “I bought you guitar lessons, too.”

Dean looked at the card and back to Cas and promptly joined him in laughter.

No one understood in the least, except perhaps Sam and Jessica, why this was so funny. But they didn’t care, because Dean and Cas were happy. They were also fairly used to Dean and Cas and their “thing” being beyond them.

Castiel fingered the envelope fondly, looked over to see Dean doing the same with the picture of his new guitar. He hoped he and Dean would always be this in sync.

Somehow, he didn’t think that was going to be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and absolutely foremost, I am not exaggerating in the least when I say this fic would not exist where it not for the guidance, support, and inspiration from someone who has come to claim a piece of my heart and soul, [Alene](http://destielengineering.tumblr.com). She has been there from the start, helping me plot, the middle as an “alpha,” and the end as a beta. And through it all, she was the world’s greatest cheerleader and hand holder the world has ever seen. “Thank you” is not a strong enough phrase to show my gratitude.
> 
> Huge thanks to [Da1ia](http://da1ia.tumblr.com) for whipping this fic into shape. She’s been a wonderful beta and a great person to work with.
> 
> Another huge thank you to my artist, [casamancy](http://casamancy.livejournal.com). She’s not only extremely talented, but a wonderful person to talk to, and also did a lot to calm my nerves about the fic. Which was certainly not in her job description. 
> 
> More thanks to [georg-prime](http://georg-prime.tumblr.com) for also being one of my strongest supporters from the very beginning and a wonderful friend in general, to [casneedsmyrrh](http://casneedsmyrrh.tumblr.com) for her support as well, to [ceteramisto](http://ceteramisto.tumblr.com) for helping with the music selection, and to my loving, patient husband [thelegendofmisha](http://thelegendofmisha.tumblr.com) for listening to me talk about this fic for 9 months and still being willing to step up as my final proofreader.


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